Of Slayers and Wolves - Season 1
by Grahamburger
Summary: What would happen if Teen Wolf were set in Sunnydale? What if Scott were bitten not long after Buffy arrived? How would things change in both series? This starts out very similar to the episodes you'll remember - but the "ripple effect" should keep things changing! Definitely looking for feedback!
1. Episode 1: Welcome to the Hellmouth

Hale House

Derek was cross with her. Derek was always cross with her. It didn't matter – the Hale pack was not, nor had it ever been, a democracy. Even with just the two of them, Laura was the Alpha and Laura made the decisions. They were not leaving the house tonight. Not for any reason.

And yet, Derek was her little brother. She hated it when he was mad. "Look," she finally said out of frustration, "You caught the same scent that I did tonight."

"Smelled mostly human," Derek insisted, "Nothing to worry about."

Laura rolled her eyes. "You've never caught that scent before, have you?" Derek scowled and shook his head. Laura continued. "I caught that for the first time when dad and Uncle Peter took me to San Diego, remember? They told me it was…"

She trailed off. Derek could smell the fear on her. "_What_ is it?"

Laura turned away from him and stared out the window. "Bad things are coming. Very soon. There's a Slayer in town."

Summers' Home: Upstairs

She tossed in her sleep. She'd be turning uncomfortably all night. Most people would have expected this to be because it was her first night sleeping in this room, in this city. Most people might have guessed she was agitated about starting at a new school.

Most people didn't know the first thing about Buffy Summers.

Without any warning she launched herself into an upright position, hand clutched to her chest as her eyes opened wide. She inhaled deeply once… twice… thrice… before her breathing returned to normal. Her eyes darted around the room. Nothing was out of place. No one was here. Good. It was just a terrible dream. She could live with that.

The sun was just beginning to creep into the room through the window. This meant she was going to have plenty of time to get ready before her first day of school, at least. She shook off the last remnants of the dream and pushed herself out of bed.

_By the time Buffy had gotten out of the shower, everyone else was awake. Not everyone was happy about it. "Why do I gotta be awake so early?" Dawn was whining, loudly, across the upstairs hall._

_Though their mom was nowhere to be seen her voice floated sternly from the open doorway of her own bedroom. "I am not making two separate trips around town this morning, especially since I need to get started on getting the gallery set up!"_

_Dawn scowled venomously at Buffy, as though she alone was responsible for the hours when school started. "Buffy starts a whole hour earlier than I do!"_

_"Well you'll be early, you can make some friends," their mother said encouragingly, coming out of her bedroom just as Buffy made it into hers and shut the door._

Sunnydale High: Outside

Buffy pushed the car door open and slid from the seat onto the pavement beside the vehicle. _She glanced to Dawn in the backseat, smiling weakly and sympathetically. Dawn looked miserable._

"Buffy, have a great day," her mom said with a genuine smile, "I know you'll make friends. Just think positive. And, you know, don't get kicked out."

Buffy rolled her eyes. "I promise." Like she could even get kicked out in _one_ day? She trudged up the walkway towards the school as the car – and with it the safety of her family – drove away.

This was it. She was on her own. And she was very nearly run over by a boy on a skateboard.

"Sorry!" he exclaimed as she dodged out of the way, "Not really sure on how to stop yet…" Xander trailed off at the end, his eyes alighting on the blonde girl. She was new. She was gorgeous. She was…

"Xander, look out!" Stiles' voice called out. Too late, the skateboard met the end of the sidewalk and launched Xander off of it. He managed to stumble forward awkwardly, rather than face-planting on the ground. A fortunate accident.

"Xander!" Stiles' and Willow's voices were sounding in worried unison. He looked up in their direction.

"Willow! You are so who I need to see right now! I need help with the math."

Willow furrowed her brow. "Which part."

"The… the math." He worked his best sad puppy dog face at her. "Can you help me? Please?"

Willow frowned. "Fine. You need to check out 'Theories in Trig' before third fifth period though."

"Ch-check it out?"

"From the library," Willow sighed, "Where the books live?" Xander nodded, grinned at her gratefully, and turned to trod away – though he was stopped by the approach of Jesse.

"Guys! New girl!" he exclaimed.

Xander exclaimed enthusiastically, "Yeah! I saw her! Total hottie!"

Willow ran a finger along her bottom lip thoughtfully. "You know, I did hear something about someone transferring here…"

"Talk. What do you know?" Stiles demanded.

Jesse stared at him confused. "About what?"

"The new girl! What do you know about her?"

"Yes," Willow agreed, "What's the sitch?"

Jesse shrugged. "She's… new?"

"Well that was a huge help," Stiles smirked.

Sunnydale High: Principal's Office

Buffy stared at her fingernails, laid out neatly on her lap. She wondered if it was normal for new transfers to meet with the principal before starting classes, or if this… treat… was reserved for special cases.

The principal smiled at her from across the desk. The name plate on the desk read "Principal Robert Flutie". Her file sat in front of him, untouched as far as she could tell. "So you are…" he glanced down at the tab on the file, "Buffy Summers. Hemery High in Los Angeles."

She nodded mutely. He casually opened the folder and removed the paper within it.

"Welcome to Sunnydale High, Miss Summers," he continued pleasantly, gently tearing down the piece of paper that held her transcripts. "We're giving you a fresh start. A clean slate. This paper doesn't matter, no matter what it says on—" His eyes fell on the actual wording on the paper and he faltered. "Whoa."

Buffy leaned forward, smiling as charmingly as she could.

"Where was I?" Principal Flutie went on, "Oh yes. We strive to nurture, encourage, the whole student. We look past the incredible decline in GPA. We see the struggling young woman with the incredible decline in GPA. And those reports of gang fights?"

As he spoke, he opened a drawer in his desk and lifted out a scotch tape dispenser. Buffy had to jump in. "Mr Flutie—"

"All the kids are free to call me Bob," he said absently as he attempted to mend the tear in the paper.

"Bob."

"But they don't."

"Look," Buffy continued, "I know it looks… colorful…"

Principal Flutie shook his head. "Hey, that doesn't matter… but, uh, are you sure 'colorful' is the word you wanted? Not… 'dismal'? Just off the top of my head here…"

Buffy's jaw worked for a moment as she tried to think of a polite comeback. "It wasn't that bad," she finished lamely.

"You burned down the gym."

"I did," Buffy admitted, "I really did. But the big picture here is that the gym was full of vamp—uhm, asbestos!"

Principal Flutie leaned forward, smiling. Grinning even. "You know what? Don't worry, Buffy. At other schools they might warn you. They might say 'watch your step' or 'get within a hundred yards of the gym with a matchbook or a lighter and you'll grow up in juvie,' but that's just not how Sunnydale operates. We're here to serve your needs and help you serve our needs. But, you know, if ever those needs don't mesh…" As he trailed off, he slid the taped up transcript back into its folder, still grinning. "But, listen, have a great first day."

Sunnydale High: Hallways

Xander Harris and Scott McCall threaded through the crowded hallways. There was always some rich gossip amongst the popular kids – the Cordettes as they were sometimes called – that Scott and Xander could spend days laughing about. Whatever scandalously awful lip color someone had accidentally purchased from Sephora or whatever it was Cordelia was outraged about.

"Oh, hey," Xander interrupted, "New girl." He elbowed Scott in the side and pointed out the blonde girl hastily exiting the principal's office. She was rummaging through her bag for something. Even as the duo watched her, Larry from the football team collided with her and kept going. Buffy's belongings scattered across the hallway, she hastily knelt to pick them up.

"I'm gonna help her," Xander said decisively.

Scott grinned. He could tell where Xander's head was at. "I'll let you mangle this social interaction all by yourself, good luck. I gotta catch up with Stiles."

Xander tried to stay calm as he approached the girl. "Hey, can I have you?" he blurted out. The blood that rushed to his face was instantaneous. It was almost like his veins had prepared for him to insert his foot into his mouth. "Uh, I mean, can I help you?"

Buffy looked up. "Yeah, thanks."

Xander knelt and grabbed two books and a notebook off the floor, passing them to the new girl. "I don't know you, do I?"

"I'm Buffy. I'm new," Buffy said cordially. There was a brief, expectant silence. "So you're… Skateboard Boy?"

"Oh!" Xander exclaimed. "Xander. Is me. Hi."

"Thanks for the help, Xander," Buffy said, smiling and taking what she hoped was the last book she'd dropped from Xander and shoving it into her bag. They stood in unison.

"Yeah, maybe I'll see you around. At school. Since we both go here," Xander stumbled over his words. Scott had not been wrong.

Buffy nodded enthusiastically, "Yeah. Great meeting you." And just like that she was gone in the crowd.

"Did you say, 'we both go to school' to her?" a sharp voice teased from behind him. "Very suave, very not pathetic."

Xander should have known he could never embarrass himself without Jackson Whittimore witnessing and exacerbating the problem. He shrugged off the attack as the school's Prince Charming pushed past him with his girlfriend Lydia in tow. That was when he spotted it – something else Buffy had dropped. It had rolled a bit further away. He knelt down and snatched it up… a short, wooden… stake?

Sunnydale High: History Classroom to Library

"And remember to reread your notes on Chapter 12 tomorrow, as we will be picking up on the plague next class," the teacher announced as the bell rang, "See you all tomorrow!"

Buffy leaned over to the desk next to hers, as the girl there stood and collected her things, "Could I borrow a copy of your notes?"

The girl nodded, smiling, "Sure thing! But it might also help if you picked up the book – I'm sure there's copies in the library."

"Oh, thanks!" Buffy returned the smile, "Where's the library?"

The brunette waved her hand, indicating that Buffy should follow her, "I'll show you." As the two of them headed out into the corridor, the girl introduced herself. "So, I'm Cordelia."

"I'm Buffy."

"You're from Hemery in L.A., right?" Cordelia wondered, "I would kill to live that close to that many shoes. Why would you move here?"

Buffy stammered over the answer, "My Mom moved here. I mean, we both moved but my Mom was the one who wanted to."

Cordelia smiled sympathetically. "You'll do okay here, hon, hang out with me and mine and everyone will love you in no time." She stopped by the water fountain, which a girl in a… less than fashionable dress was drinking from. "Willow, nice dress. Someone's a Maxxinista." The sarcasm in her tone was vicious and cutting – Buffy was so taken aback by it she could only stare in silent protest. No words were forming in her brain at all.

"Thanks?" the girl – Willow – replied tentatively as she lifted her head from the water fountain, "My Mom picked it out."

Cordelia nodded, her friendly smile had been replaced by a cold, sardonic smirk. "Explains so much. You done?"

Willow's mouth dropped open. "Oh." She sidestepped away from Cordelia and scurried away. Buffy watched, horrified and feeling hurt for her – even though she was a total stranger. It took her a minute to realize Cordelia had resumed talking – and walking. Buffy fell into place behind her.

"I mean, the first rule is obviously that you have to know who the losers are…" Cordelia was saying. Buffy looked back in the direction Willow had gone. Yeah, she was pretty sure she'd found the loser and she was definitely following her to the library. But Buffy was in no position to turn down any friends at this point.

When Buffy did finally tune back into Cordelia, they were nearly at the library and Cordelia had completely changed the subject. "So everyone is going to be the Bronze tonight. Most nights, really, it's like the only thing to do in this town. They let anyone in but it's always fun and there's usually a band…"

"Sounds cool, I'll try," Buffy said coolly.

"Well, this is the library, and I'm sure I'll see you at, like, gym? I have to go meet up with Harmony and Lydia – you'll love them! See ya," Cordelia smiled, waved, and departed. Apparently she couldn't step inside the library. Probably, she'd burst into flames. Buffy pushed the door open and entered.

The library was dark, and many of the books looked considerably older than she expected of a high school library. There also didn't seem to be any evidence that any living person had been in the room for ages.

"Hello?" Buffy called out.

Without warning, a man rose up from behind the counter. He smiled and, in an unexpected and very proper British accent, inquired, "Can I help you?"

Buffy nodded, "I need some books…. I'm new?"

"Miss Summers?"

"So… I'm the only new kid, huh?" Buffy mused.

"I'm Mr. Giles," the librarian smiled warmly, "Never to fear, I'm rather new myself." Introductions out of the way, he disappeared under the counter once more.

"So, do you have-" Buffy started, but the British lilt cut her off.

"I know what you seek." Mr. Giles stood once more and dropped a positively ancient looking tome on the counter. The leather cover was embossed with the word "VAMPYR".

Buffy stared, horrified. "That is not at all what I'm looking for."

Giles furrowed his brow. "Are you certain?"

"Not even a little what I'm looking for," Buffy answered, swiveling on her heel and beating a hasty retreat out the swinging doors.

Sunnydale High: Girls' Lockerroom

Lydia Martin and a few of her friends trickled into the locker room, gossiping as usual. "Well, Cordy said she seemed cool," Lydia insisted.

"I don't know, what kind of name is 'Buffy' anyways?" one of the Cordettes groaned, rolling her eyes.

"Oh, get over it Aphrodesia," Lydia smirked, "You don't like anyone new."

"Well, I heard that she got kicked out of Hemery for gang violence," Aphrodesia added quickly. Lydia shrugged and started in on her locker combination, but Aphrodesia wasn't done yet. "Her mom had to get a new job because of it. For serious, Aura saw her transcripts."

Lydia was about to answer, when her locker door swung open. Something heavy fell on Lydia, who stumbled backwards onto the center bench before she even knew what it was – and as soon as she realized, she let out the most bloodcurdling scream. There was a dead body in her locker.

Sunnydale High: Cafeteria

Willow Rosenberg was absorbed by her lunch. Other than Boyd, who was always by himself, she was the only person sitting alone in the whole cafeteria. Didn't matter to her. It was a peanut butter and Nutella sandwich, but it was the sort of thing she could savor for an entire lunch period. She slipped it out of the brown paper bag with growing excitement…

"Hi, Willow, right?" The new girl was suddenly standing in front of her.

Willow stared up at her. "Uh… hi? Did you want me to move?"

The new girl blinked in surprise. "Hi, I'm Buffy. I'm new." There was a pause where neither girl spoke. "Okay, I'll just dive right into the favor asking then. You don't have to move, but… could you hang out with me for a while?"

There was another awkward pause before Willow realized she should speak. "Aren't you hanging out with Cordelia?"

"I can't do both?"

"It'd be social suicide," Willow admitted.

Buffy sighed. "I mean, Cordelia's been really nice to… to me at least. But I can not flunk all of my classes and everyone says you're the gal to talk to about catching up."

Willow grinned. She couldn't help but be excited. People were talking about. People were saying nice things about her! And she could help the new girl! "I have sixth period free, we can meet in the library-"

"No," Buffy interjected, "Some place louder. Places gives me the wiggins."

Willow nodded. "Most kids here agree, but I love it. The librarian is so cool – he was a curator at a British museum. And he brought all these old books with him and – am I literally the most boring person you've ever talked to?"

"So not at all," Buffy assured Willow seriously.

"We're interrupting!" a guy's voice… well, interrupted.

It was at that moment the table, quite suddenly, filled with people. The boys piled into seats, each greeting Buffy and Willow quite loudly. Willow greeted them back, then turned to Buffy to introduce them. "So that's Scott McCall, Stiles Stilinski…"

"Seriously? Stiles Stilinski?" Buffy wondered aloud, but Willow continued.

"Jesse McNally, and Xander Harris."

Xander smiled at Buffy. "We go way back! Old friends! Very close, old friends. We did have that period of estrangement – we were both changing as people – but now, see, it's just like old times. Very moving."

"Is it just me or are you becoming a babbling idiot?" Jesse mused.

"Not just you," Xander said, his voice trailing off.

Buffy just stared at the boys for a moment. "Nice meeting you. I think?"

"Well, we just wanted to make you feel at home," Scott said invitingly, pushing a seat out for her with his foot.

"Unless you have a scary home," Jesse added.

"Oh!" Xander said, reaching into his backpack, "Also, wanted to return this." He withdrew a sharpened wooden stake. Buffy stared at it for a second, without moving or reacting at all. "My guess is… you're building a small fence?"

"Outdoor camping… like old fashioned though?" Scott guessed.

"Like to whittle, but you're not very artistic?" Jesse offered.

Buffy stopped them before any more guesses could be thrown at her. "Self defense. Everyone in L.A. has these now. Pepper spray… with the wind… no good."

"So, tell us about yourself," Scott prompted after another brief, but slightly awkward, silence, "What do you do for fun? What do you like? What do you look for in a man?" He flinched as he received a sharp kick in the shin from Xander.

"Any dark, painful secrets we could publish?" Jesse added.

Buffy stared at him. "Oh. All these questions. All about me. How keen."

"Not a lot goes on here," Xander explained, "You're the big news."

"Are these people bothering you?" Cordelia's scathing voice jumped in. They turned their heads to see her standing behind Jesse, Harmony behind her, arms crossed across their chests.

"No," Buffy answered hestitantly.

"Oh, she isn't with us. Not hanging with us," Willow jumped in.

Jesse, meanwhile, stared at Cordelia with smitten eyes. "Hey Cordy," he finally managed.

Cordelia just stared at him, eyebrows raised. "Uhm. Ew. And also, no," she shot back at him, before returning her attention to Buffy, "Not to totally interrupt you mid-social suicide but I thought you should know, gym classes have all been canceled today due to the extremely dead guy in Lydia's locker."

"What?" everyone at the table exclaimed in unison.

Cordelia looked at them, appalled that they weren't already up on this fresh gossip. "Yeah. Dead guy stuffed in Lydia's locker."

"Dead." Buffy repeated.

"Dead?" Stiles asked, a little too excited.

"Way, totally dead," Cordelia assured them.

"Not just a little dead?" Xander mocked.

"Don't you have an elsewhere to be?" Cordelia snapped.

"Hey Cordy, if you need—" Jesse started, but fell silent as Cordelia shot him another scathing glare.

"How did he die?" Buffy asked seriously. Stiles leaned forward, anticipating the answer.

"What?" Cordelia wondered.

Buffy sighed and tried again. "I mean, were there marks or…"

"Wow, morbid much?" Cordelia made a disgusted face.

"Look, I gotta go, talk to you guys later." Buffy grabbed her bag and left the room like someone had lit a fire in the cafeteria.

"Huh," was all Scott could say.

"What is her deal?" Cordelia wondered aloud as she and Harmony strode way.

Stiles, on the other hand, stared after her. "She's kinda cool, guys. Don't you think?"

"Anyone who's interested in dead bodies is cool to you, Stiles," Willow groaned.

Sunnydale High: Outside Girls' Locker Room

Buffy came to a halt outside the door of the locker room. Principal Flutie was standing guard, and spotted her. "Oh, Buffy, I'm so sorry there's no gym classes today," he told her.

"Oh, I heard," she said vaguely, "I was just…"

"I know this must be upsetting," Principal Flutie went on, "But I assure you, this very seldom happens. It is very rare that we have corpses stuffed in lockers at this school."

"Is he a student?" Buffy wondered.

"No, no, he's not currently…" Principal Flutie replied.

Buffy wasn't done. "How did he die?"

"Well, that's for the police to determine," Principal Flutie admitted, "But I'm fairly certain there is no grounds for a lawsuit."

"Was there any blood?"

"What?" Principal Flutie stared at her. "I know this must be very distressing. Here. I know you must be feeling a lot, and you should share those feelings Not with me. But if there's anything we can do—"

"Can I see the body?" Buffy jumped in.

It was amazing that that worked – but Principal Flutie realized he'd said "anything" and, after a few moments of trying to find a way around that – let Buffy into the locker room with a warning not to touch anything.

The body was laid across the floor, covered in a white sheet. Buffy only needs to see one part of the body so gingerly lifted one edge of the sheet. There it was. Pale, drained body with two puncture marks right on the neck. "Oh, crap."

Sunnydale High: Library

Buffy threw open the doors to the library as she entered. She was so not in the mood for any of this. "What is the sitch, then?" she demanded as she strode in.

Mr. Giles spun on his heel to see her. "Sorry?"

"You heard about the dead guy?" Buffy went on, "It's just the weirdest thing. He has no blood and he has two holes in his neck. Isn't that the strangest thing you've ever heard?"

"I was afraid of this," Giles admitted.

"I was definitely not," Buffy rounded on the British gent, "I was afraid of not making friends, of not having the right fashions, of being too behind on my classes. I was not afraid there would be vampires. And you know what? I don't care."

"Then why are you here?"

She stopped. Damn, he was good. After a moment, she replied, "To tell you that I don't care. Which I did. So, bye." She turned to leave in a huff.

"Will he rise again?"

And now she stopped again. Damn him. "What?"

"Will the boy rise again?"

"Oh," Buffy thought for a second, "No. No, definitely not. He's just dead. To turn someone, they drink your blood, they feed you their blood… there was no blood anywhere. He's just dead. Why am I still talking to you?"

"You think this is a coincidence, don't you? Your being here?" Giles demanded. Buffy sighed, rolled her eyes, but he went on. "This was just the beginning. You are meant to be here. You are the Slayer." She did not respond in any way, so he continued. "Into every generation, a Slayer is born. One girl in all the world, a Chosen One. One born with the-"

And now Buffy jumped in, chorusing his recitation of the prophecy. She had heard it before. "With the strength and skill to hunt the vampires, to stop the spread of their evil – blah blah blah. I know. I've heard it, and I'm done."

"You've slain vampires before, why are you so reluctant to fulfill your duty? You already accepted it." Giles was confused, concerned, but mostly… he was uppity.

"Because I have been there, and done that, and now I am moving on. Growing as a person."

"You know nothing about this town, do you?"

"Two hours from the closest Neiman Marcus," Buffy pointed out, "That's something."

"No, the history of the town," Giles corrected her, "Dig into it. There's been a stream of odd occurrences. This area is the center of mystical activity. Things gravitate towards it that you are unlikely to find anywhere else."

"I've found vampires elsewhere," Buffy observed.

"There's more than vampires here, Buffy," Giles lectured, "Werewolves. Zombies. All manner of demons and monstrosities you've told yourself could never exist."

"Right, but I'm a _vampire_ slayer," Buffy countered, "So those other things do not matter to me at all. And I'm retired anyways, so you can kill the vampires—"

"I can't, I haven't the skill," Giles rebutted.

Buffy shook her head. "It's easy. You take a stake, you push it in the heart."

"The Slayer slays, the Watcher—"

"Watches?"

Giles stammered, "Well. Yes. But we also train and prepare and—"

"You can't prepare someone for this! For losing all her friends? For having to spend her entire teenage years fighting for her life and never being able to tell anyone? For getting kicked out of school? You want to prepare me for that, try." Buffy was furious now. When Giles did not immediately respond, she took the opportunity to storm out of the library.

Behind the stacks, Xander sat. Stunned. What had he just heard? He poked his head out to see Giles following Buffy out into the hall. He was going to take this opportunity to exist unnoticed.

Buffy stormed into the hallway – where he was headed, she wasn't sure. She didn't care. But that infuriating British man stopped her again.

"It's getting worse," he announced, "For years, it's been building. The mystical energies of this place, intensifying. There is a reason you've come here now."

"Because now is when my mom moved here," Buffy replied scorchingly.

"Something is coming," Giles warned, "Something is going to happen. Soon."

Buffy smirked. "Oh, well, if you're going to get all specific about it…" She shook her head. "This place is called Sunnydale. Sunnydale. How bad can the evil be?"

Church of Aurelius

Beneath the town of Sunnydale, a sanctuary existed. A dark, shadowy place of worship. Robed vampires chanted in front of their blood-stained altar. Upon the altar ripples a pool of blood. This pool is the center of their worship.

"The sleeper will awaken," one vampire, huge, hulking and muscular, spoke, leading the chanting, stepping forward towards the pool. As he spoke, he gently dipped a finger into the pool. "The sleeper will awaken and the world will bleed. Amen."

Summers Home: Upstairs

Buffy held up the dress in front of the mirror and shook her head. "Too Mormon," she mused, holding up a second. "Too slutty…" She tossed both onto her bed and headed back to her closet.

Her mother gently pushed open the door. "Going out?" she asked.

"Yeah," Buffy said, "Some kids invited me to this club. The Bronze."

"Will there be boys?"

"Nope," Buffy said with a teasing smile, "It's one of those nun clubs."

Her mom stuck her tongue out at the remark. "Well, be careful. I hear those nuns can be awful rowdy."

"I'll be careful," Buffy promised.

"I think we found a place for the gallery," her mom said, her tone a combination of excitement and seriousness, "We can get it on its feet and… and I really think we can make this town work for us. The school is very nurturing, I think you need that. _I think Dawn will need that too._ Not too nurturing, of course."

"Mom," Buffy attempted to interrupt, feeling suddenly very uncomfortable.

"I know this is hard. New town and all. It's hard on me too. But I'm going to make it work."

"I know," Buffy answered quietly.

"And everything from L.A. is behind us," she continued, "You fell in with the wrong crowd. But I know you're a good girl. And we get to start over here. Both of us."

Buffy smiled helplessly.

"Well. Have fun. And… maybe that blue sequin shirt, black jeans and your leather jacket?" Her mom pointed at the closet. "Not too short, but it's not like you're some kind of… nun." She smiled and ducked back out of the room, leaving Buffy to admit to herself that sometimes her mom was some kind of fashion genius.

Sunnydale Streets

Buffy walked confidently down the darkened streets of Sunnydale. More confidently than she actually felt – she was mostly hoping this was the right way to the Bronze. And hoping those footsteps she could hear behind her were just a coincidence.

As much as she hated it, coincidences seemed awfully rare in this town. She veered her course into an alley as she passed it. Sure enough the footsteps followed. A dark figure turned into the alley after her, looking around to find where she had gone.

He never looked up. His mistake. Buffy dropped from a metal bar that crossed over the alley – landing squarely on the guy and knocking him to the ground. She leapt up, prepared for him to launch a counter attack.

He merely stood up and dusted himself off. "Problem?" he asked.

Buffy stared at him. Handsome. Graceful. Unnervingly calm. "Yeah. You're following me. Why?"

"Don't worry. I don't bite," he replied with an amused smirk, "You are spry, aren't you?"

"What do you want?"

"Same as you," the stranger spoke, "To kill them. To kill all of them."

"Wrong, but you win this lovely watch and a year's supply of Turtle Wax," Buffy mocked, "I want to be left alone. And maybe better directions to the Bronze – but not from you."

"You are standing at the mouth of Hell," the stranger warned, "And it is opening." He pulled a small box from his trenchcoat and tossed it to her. She caught it easily. "You've got to be ready for what's coming."

"Which is?" Buffy demanded, staring at the box.

"The Harvest." This pronouncement made, he turned to leave.

She cautiously opened the box, revealing a silver cross on a chain inside. The perfect defense. "Who are you?"

"A friend," he called over his shoulder.

"I don't want a friend!" Buffy shouted at him.

"Never said I was yours."

The Bronze

Buffy looked around as she entered the Bronze, searching desperately for anyone she recognized from school. Fortunately, she spotted Willow getting a soda from the bar before too long. "Hey, Willow!" Buffy called, hurrying to catch her before she was engulfed in the crowd.

"Oh, hi!" Willow seemed delighted to see her.

"Are you here with anyone?" Buffy asked.

Willow shrugged. "Well, I mean, Xander's supposed to show. Jesse invited the whole gang."

Buffy grinned. This was the exciting girl talk she'd been missing. "Are you and Xander going out?"

Willow shook her heads though. "We used to go out, but we broke up when he stole my Barbie." Buffy just stared at her for moment. "Oh, uh, we were five. I don't date a lot. Or at all."

"Why not?"

"It's really hard for me to be witty with boys. I just can't think of anything clever to. Or anything to say, actually… I think boys like girls who can talk," Willow admitted.

Buffy nodded sympathetically. "You really haven't been dating."

"You must have it so easy," Willow guessed.

Buffy rolled her eyes. "Oh, it's not real easy."

"But you're not shy at all."

Buffy nodded, "That's true. But it's because I'm guided my life philosophy – you want to hear this? My philosophy is… life is short. Seize the day! Tomorrow you might be dead." Willow furrowed her brow, thinking about this. And in the resulting silence, Buffy saw someone else she knew.

Mr. Giles, looking down from the second floor.

"Oh for the love of…" she muttered, "I will be back in a minute, Willow."

"You don't have to come back."

"I will be back," Buffy assured her, taking off towards the stairs. When she reached Giles, she took no time in confronting him. "How skeazy is it that you party with the students?"

"This is not my idea of fun, I assure you," Giles retorted, "I'd much prefer being at home with a cup of tea and a good book. But this is the perfect breeding ground for vampiric activity, and I assumed you'd show up. Now, since…"

"Yeah, yeah, the Harvest is coming, your friend told me," Buffy interjected, "Done now?"

"Who told you this?"

"Tall, brooding, dark, handsome but obnoxious?" Buffy detailed, "Figured he was your friend. The Harvest mean anything to you because I've got nothing."

"What else did he say?" Giles asked, bewildered.

"Blah blah, mouth of Hell, et cetera," Buffy replied, "Really got on my nerves, that guy."

Giles shook his head and peered down at the crowd below. "These children have no idea of the dangers that surround them."

"Lucky," Buffy mused.

"Then again, perhaps you're right," Giles went on, "The portents could be wrong, and maybe there is no great evil brewing in Sunnydale. You're not having the nightmares…" He trailed off and stared at Buffy. She intentionally avoided his gaze, her brow furrowed as she stared at the dance floor below. She caught sight of a familiar face working his way through the teenagers below.

Jesse was hunting. This was the night. He'd made all his friends promise to come to the Bronze for moral support. Tonight, he was going to get Cordelia to dance with him. He was determined. None of his friends had arrived yet that he could find.

But there was Cordelia – Lydia and Harmony with her. He wouldn't let them shake his confidence tonight. He was all in. He approached the trio of young women and opened his mouth to speak. "Hi Cordy."

"Oh goody, my stalker," Cordelia scowled.

Jesse tried again. "You look great."

"Good talk, " Cordelia responded with an eye roll.

"Want to dance?" He was undeterred.

"With you?" Cordelia stared at him – incredulous.

Jesse nodded. "Yeah."

"No." With that, Cordelia and her friends pushed their way through the crowd, away from him. He pouted – only for a moment – until a new plan formulated in his head. He'd find another girl to dance with him – he'd make her jealous. He turned – and right behind him was the answer. A beautiful blonde girl. "Hi, I'm Jesse," he announced to her.

She smiled brightly at him – her teeth were dazzling. "Hi. I'm Darla."

"I mean, if I come across a vampire, obviously I'll slay it," Buffy reassured Giles, "I just don't want to get all extracurricular about it."

Giles snorted with derision. This was obviously not comforting to him. "You've hardly been trained at all. A vampire looks like a normal person until it is about to feed—"

"Yeah, aware," Buffy snapped.

"Slayers should be able to detect them anyways," Giles insisted, "Even in this crowd. Try. I am certain there's at least one here. Focus. Hone your senses. Reach out with your-"

Buffy pointed to the crowd below. "That's one," she observed, "His clothes look like… 80's. He could be DeBarge. He's wearing clothes he'd have to have lived underground for twenty years to think were cool, and yet he's still talking to—" Her voice faltered as she saw. "Willow."

"What is she doing?"

"Seizing the moment," Buffy said over her shoulder as she hastily headed down the stairs. She pushed past teenagers, doing her best to keep her eyes on Willow and her new friend. They were moving for the door. She had to try to cut them off.

"Buffy!" a voice exclaimed. Stiles, with Scott following close behind, "Buffy! Have you seen Jesse?"

Buffy shook her head. "I'm really sorry guys, I don't have time – got find Willow." She brushed past them, but it was too late. She'd lost her quarry. Panic was starting to set in. She pushed her way out the door, her hand closing around the stake in her purse.

Something – someone – moved beside her, she spun and shoved, pressing them up against the wall, stake at the ready.

"What is your childhood trauma?" Cordelia shrieked, staring down at Buffy from the wall. Buffy gasped and released her. "Could you have more weirdness? Honestly," Cordelia snapped, fixing her clothes and rolling her eyes.

"Sorry," Buffy smiled weakly, "Have you guys seen Willow?"

Harmony and Cordelia just glared in response. Lydia was not content to just let the silence serve as punishment for this attack. "Oh, so you can attack _her_ with a stick?" She turned to Cordelia and the other Cordettes, "Let's go find Jackson."

As they passed Buffy, brimming with hostility, Cordelia announced, "I've got to text everyone I know. And then Tweet this."

Buffy leaned against the wall and closed her eyes. How could this have happened? Less than 24 hours, and already one of her friends was going to die because of a vampire.

And then Giles arrived. Just what she needed. "That was short work," he said, "I'm going to return to the library to research this 'Har—" He stopped, looked around. "Where is Willow?"

"I didn't find them," Buffy reported, "The vampire is still alive, which is more than I can say for my social life."

"So what will you do now?" Giles inquired.

Buffy stood up. "I'm going to keep looking. You go ahead to the library. I can handle one lowly vampire without help."

Church of Aurelius

The robed vampires continued chanting in the cavernous underground sanctuary. The one leading the chants stood before the altar, arms raised in praise. The pool of blood rippled violently and then – as if forming from the blood itself – a figure began to rise from the blood.

The vampires stumbled back, away from the altar. They sink to their knees in unison. "Master…" the chant leader breathes, bowing his head.

"Luke," the Master said. As the blood dripped away from his newly recreated body, it revealed a pale, bald… monster. He was clearly a vampire, but at his ancient age, his human form had all but gone. Once, more than six centuries ago, he had been called Heinrich Joseph Nest but all of this had long since been forgotten. For now, he was something else. Something greater than human. Something, perhaps, greater than vampire.

Luke – the vampire who had led the chants – stood. "Master," he repeated.

"I am weak," the Master observed.

Luke nodded. "The Harvest comes. That will change that. You'll be restored. You'll be free. And Darla and Thomas are bringing food as we speak."

"Good," the Master nodded, pleased, "Bring me something young."

The Bronze

Xander tapped his foot. He wasn't at all sure what was taking so long to get in, but he was starting to get irritated by it. He was sure that all his other friends were inside having fun without him. Desperate for anything exciting to happen – it was almost a relief when Buffy rushed out of the club. "Are you leaving already?" he asked.

"Did you see Willow?" Buffy demanded, completely ignoring the question.

"No," Xander replied, "I figured she'd be inside."

"She left," Buffy explained, "With a guy."

Xander furrowed his brow. "Willow? Willow Willow? Huh. Scoring at the Bronze, who'd have thunk it?"

Buffy stared him down. "This is serious, Xander. Where would they go?"

Xander shrugged – then his jaw dropped open for a moment as a thought occurred to him. "You're thinking he's a vampire, and you've got to slay him."

Buffy grabbed his arm and yanked him out of line. She was stronger than she looked. She pulled his around the corner of the building, muttering, "Was there some kind of bulletin? Was it in the newspaper? Everyone in this whole town knows I'm the Slayer, this is ridiculous…"

"I don't know you're the Slayer," Xander interrupted, though he was a bit alarmed by the strength she was displaying by pulling him so hard, "I only know you think you're 'the Slayer' cause you and the creeptastic librarian don't whisper in the library."

"Whatever," Buffy snapped, "Where would Willow go? Because if I don't find her, Sunnydale is going to have another dead body in the morning."

"You are serious," Xander said slowly, "Alright… I have a thought. Come on."

Sunnydale Cemetery

Willow strolled alongside the boy – Thomas, he'd called himself – with serious trepidation. "You're sure this is a shortcut to the froyo bar?" He didn't answer. "Because, I mean, it's right on Hamilton…"

He stopped next to a mausoleum, and turned to Willow with a sly smile. "Ever been in one of these?" The door was open – a well of darkness, hardly inviting.

Willow stared at him. "Well. No. Because that's usually something reserved for dead people, isn't it? And neither of us—"

He gently pulled her towards him, a warm embrace. "Nothin' to be scared of. C'mon in." And with that – he yanked her inside the shadowed entrance and she screamed.

"That's not funny," Willow protested, "I'm… I'm leaving."

"Think so?" Thomas retorted. The playful mischievousness had vanished from his voice. Willow didn't want to find out what he had planned next, she turned back towards the door and slammed into another body.

Jesse. He was clutching his neck. Behind him, blocking the exit, was a blonde woman. "That's the best you could manage?" she sneered, "Not much to share."

"Darla, I think you gave me a hickey," Jesse managed deliriously. He lifted his hand – two small marks on his neck oozed blood.

Darla shrugged. "I got hungry on the way."

"Jesse, we need to go," Willow urged, grabbing a hold of her friend's arm.

"Oh, sweetie," Darla cooed, "You're not going anywhere." At that moment her face changed. Her eyes turned yellow, her forehead raised in sharp lumps over the eyes, and vicious fangs emerged from her mouth. "We need to feed."

Willow screamed, turning to look at Thomas. His face, too, had changed.

"Well, isn't this cozy?" a voice interrupted.

"The froyo bar is right on Hamilton," Xander explained, "About a block away from the cemetery here…"

Buffy was listening intently – but not to Xander. He'd led her alongside the cemetery. Of course, a vampire wouldn't take Willow where she wanted to go. He'd take her some place where they wouldn't be found. Somewhere where the only witnesses were already dead.

The scream confirmed her suspicions. As soon as she heard it, she took off at a sprint. She could hear Xander trying to keep pace behind her. But the scream didn't last – she slowed her pace and listened more intently. This was a big cemetery, it would be hard to figure out a precise location without—

Another scream. This one was much closer – in fact, it was definitely coming from the mausoleum only a few paces away. Buffy rushed into the open door and took note of what she saw – two vampires, one male and one female – and two helpless, scared friends. "Well, isn't this cozy?" she said, stepping through the threshold, "A little dark, but get some nice colorful throw pillows and I'm sure it'll feel like home."

"Who are you?" the female vampire demanded, turning towards her.

"Someone doesn't know?" Buffy gasped sarcastically, "I have to tell you, it is hard to keep a secret identity in this town. As she spoke, she maneuvered herself around the crypt – eventually positioning herself between the two vampires.

Xander crept in, motioning desperately for Willow and Jesse to come to him – cautiously, though, while the vampires were occupied with Buffy. "Let's go," he hissed.

"Not yet," the boy vampire snarled.

"Xander, catch," Buffy tossed him the box she'd received earlier. He caught it – fumbling it a few times before securing it in his grasp. She still had some armaments in her purse, but Xander would need at least the cross in order to get away with Willow and Jesse. "Now," Buffy redirected her attention back to the vampires, "These outfits have got to go. The 80's have been over for like twenty years."

The boy vampire charged. In one motion, Buffy plucked the stake from her purse and held it up towards the incoming assailent, barely looking. He gasped as the wood pierced his chest. Buffy pulled it out, and he stumbled backwards, eyes wide in agony.

And then, he disintegrated into dust. "Xander, go!" Buffy ordered. He needed no second bidding, grabbing both Willow and Jesse by the arms and making for the exit. The vampire woman lunged for Buffy – but not fast enough. Buffy slammed her knee up into her opponents chest, and Darla tumbled – hitting the floor with a thud.

"I tried so hard," Buffy mused, "I just wanted to start over. I wanted friends. A dog would have been nice… But no. There's vampires here too. Couldn't suck in some other town."

"Who are you?" the vampire repeated.

Buffy smirked. "You don't know?"

"I don't care." A new voice from behind her answered. Buffy spun to face the newcomer, too late to block his attack which sent her flying back into a wall – and knocking her stake and purse onto the floor. "The Harvest is nearly here, Darla, where is the food for the Master?"

"We had someone," Darla protested, "But she came. She's strong, Luke. She killed Thomas."

"Get the food," Luke ordered, "I'll handle this pint sized girl." He moved to attack her again as Darla followed his order, but this time Buffy was ready – slamming her foot into his face before he ever had a chance. "You are strong," he observed as he recovered from the blow, "I'm stronger."

With no warning at all, he slammed his fist into Buffy's jaw. She recoiled, then struck back, but Luke caught her arm as she landed the strike and tossed the Slayer to the ground.

Willow was in the lead as Xander helped keep Jesse upright. The three of them were making steady – swift, even – time towards the edge of the cemetery closest to the police station. "The cops will know what to do," Willow told herself as she ran, "It's only a little further…" She trailed off. Three figures were headed in their direction.

Three figures with lumpy faces and fangs.

"Vampires," Xander gasped, "More vampires."

"And now you're outnumbered," Darla's voice hissed from behind them.

The fight was pretty evenly matched, it seemed – Buffy just needed another chance to grab her stake from the ground and she could end this.

"Quit wasting my time," Luke snarled, finding his way to the other side of the stone tomb.

"It's not like I don't have other plans too," Buffy retorted, wary of what Luke was doing. Then, he shoved – sending the stone lid of the tomb flying towards Buffy. She leaped into the air, dodging the attack and using the momentum to throw herself, feet first, at Luke. She slammed into him, knocking him back.

Fortunately, although Buffy found herself on the floor as well, she was right next to where her stake had landed. She grabbed it and hurled herself, stake first, at Luke's chest as he tried to stand.

But his fist closed in around the stake before it reached him, shattering the wood. With his other hand, he hurled Buffy backwards. "You can't stop us," he roared, "The Harvest will come!" As if to emphasize his zealotry, he slammed another blow into Buffy's chest, tossing her into the tomb itself.

He approached the tomb – moving in for the kill – with a sort of reverence. He intoned words as though reciting from a sacred text. "And like a plague of boils, the race of Man covered the earth. But on the third day of the newest light will come over the Harvest… when the blood of men will flow as wine… and the Master will walk once more… and the world will belong to the Old Ones…Amen." Buffy struggled to escape the confines of the stone resting place, but Luke was on top of her. He struck her, hard, in the face… once, twice… and then he moved in for the kill.

And as his teeth were about to sink into her neck, a terrible, unnatural howling noise filled the chamber.


	2. Episode 2: The Harvest

**The Harvest**

Hale House

Laura cocked her head to the side. She could hear screams from the cemetery. Trouble… and vampires.

"Stay here," Laura ordered of her brother.

"What? No!" Derek protested, "I'm a better fighter than you are!"

Laura shook her head, "But I'm stronger – and I'm the Alpha. If the Slayer is out there and wants to kill more than vampires, I have a better chance of surviving. Stay here." She flashed her eyes at him – the red glow serving as a reminder of exactly who was in charge.

Derek scowled and glared at her defiantly, but he didn't protest any further. In a flash she was out there door and running through the woods.

Sunnydale Cemetery

Xander felt anything but calm, but he knew he had to keep it together for Willow and for Jesse – though Jesse was so weak he barely knew what was going on. The box – Buffy had tossed it to him, but she hadn't said what was in it. He flicked it open and a silver cross fell into his hand. He dropped the box and held the cross by its chain. He held it up, hoping to protect them from at least one vampire.

They didn't seem all that concerned… but he noticed their attention was mostly focused on Willow.

Buffy threw up her arm to try to fend off Luke's assault when the unnatural howling filled the stone chamber. Luke reared back, surprised – scared, perhaps? All Buffy saw was his face – and then the foot that roundhouse kicked him out of her view. Buffy pulled herself up out of the tomb, and watched for a moment – a brunette woman was beating the crap out of Luke.

He was only taken by surprise for a moment though – recovering his calm collected attitude and hurling the woman off of him. Buffy caught her face – wild sideburns extended down from her hair all the way to her chin, lumps rose in the forehead, much like a vampire, and fangs extended from both her upper and lower teeth. She wasn't a vampire, but she sure wasn't human.

Luke snarled, "A werewolf?"

Oh. Well, that explained what had come to her aid. Giles had warned her there'd be more than vampires here. She rose to rejoin the fight when she heard Willow scream.

The werewolf launched herself at Luke. Her eyes glowed red and threatening – she was starting to appear even more wolf-like. "Go!" she growled. Luke dodged her attack – alarm written all over his face.

That was the last Buffy saw before she raced out the door of the mausoleum, hoping to find Willow, Xander, and Jesse in time.

Xander was valiant, heroic even, with the silver cross – but it was small and only managed to fend off one vampire at a time. While pressed it against the face of one of their assailants, another had grabbed Willow and pinned her to the ground.

She struggled, but he was going in for her neck when he was suddenly lifted into the air, leaving Willow on the ground, amazed.

Buffy tossed the vampire towards a tree and charged, snapping off a branch as soon as she was within reach and thrusting it into the vampire's chest. The makeshift stake was absolutely effective. He howled in pain as he vanished into dust. Wasting no time, Buffy turned attention to Xander – just in time to see him get clocked over the head by the vampire he was struggling with. Xander sank to the ground with a dull thud.

Buffy leapt for the vampire, broken branch in hand, impaling Xander's assailant with it. She didn't even watch him to turn to dust, though she noticed Willow couldn't look away.

"Where's Jesse?" she exclaimed, kneeling next to Xander who was still unconscious.

"They surrounded us," Willow breathed, crawling towards Xander, "I don't know. He was so weak…"

With a few gentle shakes, they were able to rouse Xander. Buffy repeated the question and he coughed, "The girl and another… they took him…"

"Which way?"

"I don't know," Xander breathed, apologetically.

Buffy shook her head. "Not your fault…" She shook her head slowly. It was clear who she was blaming for this.

Hale House

Laura limped through the door that led from the burnt out portion of the house into the few remaining rooms that she and Derek shared. She was covered in blood, but she would heal.

"What happened?" Derek demanded.

Laura smiled. "I won." The smile faltered. "Sort of."

"What do you mean?"

She collapsed on the couch, groaning as she did. "The vampire I fought… got away…" She bit her bottom lip curiously, "He just sort of disappeared while my back was turned, only for a moment. He's strong… there's got to be a nest in the cemetery."

Derek frowned, concerned. "You don't think…"

"Dad's stories?" Laura wondered, "Actually… that would make a lot of sense…"

"And the Slayer?" Derek asked hesitantly.

Laura smiled. "I think we really connected. On a primal, let's kick some ass, kind of level. I just hope it lasts."

Sunnydale High: Outside

Stiles leapt from his jeep, slamming the door and hurrying to the place where his friends usually met up before school. He and Scott had managed to catch sight only of Buffy through the whole night – well, Cordelia and her posse too. Scott, who rode to school with Stiles this morning as usual, followed closely behind.

The bench they usually gathered at was empty.

"Oh," Scott said, sitting on it, "Just us again. What gives?"

Stiles shrugged. "You know, there's a new girl. And she's gorgeous and blonde so, like, the guys are gonna follow her around like she's some kind of Chosen One."

"And us?" Scott asked, smirking at Stiles' nonchalance.

Scott frowned. "We're like… invulnerable."

"Willow?"

"Eh, maybe Willow's kinda gay?"

Scott laughed. "I guess she could be."

Sunnydale High: Library

Xander and Willow sat, exhausted, at a table stacked with books. Giles had spent the night poring over countless documents, searching for information on the Harvest. Although Xander and Willow had gone home, it was apparent neither of them had slept. So, they had followed Buffy to the library as soon as she arrived at school.

"This world is far older than even modern scientists realize," Giles explained, "For ages, demons walked the earth. Ruled it. Eventually, they lost their claim on this realm, and mortals came to inherit it. But all the traces of the Old Ones are not gone from this world. There is magick, and some creatures…"

"Vampires," Buffy cut in.

"Right," Xander added, "This is what's really getting me right now. We're having a talk with vampires in it. Talking about vampires."

"I should sit down," Willow said drowsily.

"You are sitting down," Buffy pointed out.

"Good." Willow noticed that Buffy was right. "Good for me."

"Vampires are demons?" Xander asked, getting the conversation back on track.

"According to the books," Giles answered, "The last of the pure demons to leave this dimension fed off a human and then gave it his blood. The human was possessed, infected, with the demon's soul. He or she bit another… and another… and now vampires walk the earth, feeding, killing, and on occasion mixing their blood with others to make more of their ilk. They wait for the mortal animals to die out and for the Old Ones to return."

Church of Aurelius

Darla dragged Jesse down the tunnels into the sanctuary. The Master, she observed, had risen while she was gone. He stood, waiting for his meal. Luke had returned before she did, and beckoned for her to bring the boy forward.

"An offering," Luke stated.

"His blood is pure," Darla promised.

The Master's expression changed – no longer one of patience, but outrage. "You tasted him? I am some kind of dog you bring table scraps to?"

"No," Darla protested, "I didn't mean—"

"I have waited for three score years, stuck here!" The Master's rage was building. "Here, in this _church_! My ascension draws near – pray that once I am freed, I am in a more forgiving mood."

"We had more offerings!" Darla explained hastily, "But there was trouble. A girl. Very strong."

"She fought well," Luke added, "She may be a—"

"Slayer?" the Master finished. "I haven't tasted a Slayer in so long… Do you have proof?"

"She's still alive after fighting me," Luke said offhandly, "And she wasn't a werewolf. Seemed thoroughly human."

"When was the last time that happened?"

"Madrid, 1843. The bastard caught me sleeping," Luke remembered aloud, "Though, I corrected my mistake later."

"No matter. She won't interrupt the Harvest," the Master said, a scheme brewing in his voice. "We have something she wants. If she is indeed a Slayer, she'll come to save him." He turned his attention back to Jesse. "We all thought you were just a meal, but I've decided to upgrade you… to bait."

Sunnydale High: Library

"And what is a Slayer exactly?" Xander questioned.

Giles sighed gently and began to explain. "Since the creation of vampires, there has always been a Slayer. In every generation, one girl in all the world—"

"He can't get enough of doing this," Buffy whispered to her friends.

"Fine," Giles snapped, "The Slayer hunts vampires. She dies, a new Slayer is called. Buffy is the Slayer, it's a secret, do be quiet about it. That's all you need to know."

"How do we kill them?" Xander asked.

Buffy shook her head. "You don't. I do."

"But Jesse…"

"Jesse is my responsibility, I let him get taken," Buffy shot back, catching everyone in the room offguard.

"No," Xander argued, "You didn't."

"Without you, I'd be dead too," Willow pointed out, "And is everyone cool if I just pass out?"

"Breathe," Buffy suggested.

"Breathing," Willow reminded herself.

"Breathe," Buffy repeated. "So, the big guy – Luke – said something about an offering to the Master? I don't know what that meant but, if they weren't just feeding, then Jesse may still be alive."

"Couldn't we just call the police?" Willow wondered.

Giles stared at her. "Because they'd believe us?"

"Besides," Buffy added, "They'd come in with guns. Wouldn't do much."

"Do you know where they may have taken him?" Giles asked.

Buffy shook her head and shrugged. "As soon as they got clear of the trees and the cemetery they could have taken off anywhere."

"Taken off?" Xander gaped, "They can fly?"

Buffy stared at him, incredulous. "No, Xander. But they can drive."

"Did anyone _hear_ a car?" Willow asked, "I don't remember that."

"Most likely they went underground," Giles pointed out, "For the day."

"Oh, true that," Buffy nodded, "Vampires really love sewer systems. Can get anywhere without catching any sunlight. But I didn't see any access points."

"There's the electrical tunnels too, they run under the whole town," Xander pointed out.

"If only we had a map…" Giles thought out loud, "If we could go to the building commission..."

"We have no time for that," Buffy argued.

Willow suddenly perked up. "I may know another way, but I'm going to need some help."

A short time later, Willow and Danny sat in front of one of the computers in the library. Scott and Stiles had spotted Xander when he'd gone to find Danny, and followed him back to the library as well. Buffy had put together a quick alibi as to why what they were hoping to do was necessary.

"So, it's just so Mr. Giles and I can get a better idea of the town we're living in now," Buffy fibbed.

Now, only a few minutes later, the plans were up on the screen. Giles was amazed. "The city plans are all open to the public?"

"Not entirely, " Willow said hesitantly, "We sort of stumbled onto them by decrypting the city council's security system and sort of accidentally bypassing their firewall."

"Oooh, you've been naughty!" Stiles teased.

"Yeah, well, if this comes back at all, Willow did this all by herself. And I was never here," Danny announced standing up and heading for the library door. "Don't make a habit out of asking for stuff like this Willow!"

As soon as the door shut behind him, everyone exhaled. "So, no, really, what're we doing this for?" Stiles asked, leaning in towards the computer.

"It's a thing…" Xander said lamely.

Scott raised an eyebrow at her. "Apparently, we're not cool enough to know, Stiles."

"This is all useless anyways," Buffy grumbled, "There is nothing helpful here."

"Aren't you being rather hard on yourself?" Giles said gently, "And… uh…" He cast a warning glance at Scott and Stiles, who were staring at her full of confusion.

"Am I?" Buffy retorted, "You're the one who said I wasn't ready. What a wild understatment! I thought I had it until that monster Luke came out of nowhere—"

She stopped midsentence. Everyone stared at her expectantly.

"What?" Xander wondered.

"Came out of nowhere…?" Stiles prompted.

"No," Buffy said slowly, "Not out of nowhere. Behind me. I was looking towards the door and he came from behind me… We were _right_ there! They must have doubled back with Jesse. God, I am so deficient!"

"Wait, Jesse?" Scott demanded, "What's going on with Jesse? What happened?"

"So we're saddling up?" Xander suggested.

"No, _we're_ not doing anything," Buffy said, taking on an air of command, "This is _my_ job. I'm the…" She cast a sideways glance at Scott and Stiles, then carried on anyways. "Slayer. Not you."

"Way to just throw that in my face," Xander pouted, "I get it. I'm less than a man. I'm inadequate."

"This is way too dangerous, Xander," Buffy shook her head. Her tone was final, there would be no more arguments.

Stiles leaned over to Scott and whispered, "You know that feeling when you come in on the middle of a movie and you don't even know what movie it is but you watch anyways?"

Scott quirked an eyebrow up at Stiles. "I usually don't watch it if I don't know… you know, nevermind. What happened to Jesse?"

"No more questions," Buffy said, heading for the library door. Scott and Stiles exchanged glances and immediately followed her.

"Wait," Willow called, "I'm not real keen on the dark, dangerous places but… I want to help!" It was too late – Buffy was gone, as were Scott and Stiles.

Giles put a hand on Willow's shoulder. "You could help me. I've been attempting to research this… Harvest. All I can find is vague, seems to be some sort of… rivers of blood, Hell on earth… kind of situation. Charmless, but fuzzy on the details. Could you attempt to wrest more information from that dreadful machine?"

Willow stared at the computer. "Come again?"

"Yes, that was rather British wasn't it," Giles mused, "I need you to use the Internet."

"Oh, sure I can do that," Willow nodded.

Giles turned to stare at the now closed library door. "Do be careful," he whispered.

"Whoa, Buffy," Scott called out as he and Stiles followed her from the library, "What happened to Jesse?"

"I thought I said no more questions?" Buffy spun around to face them, "I don't have time."

"Just answer the one question," Scott demanded.

Buffy paused and sputtered out an answer. "It's a… roleplaying… gang violence kind of thing."

"That's a thing?" Stiles wondered.

"In Sunnydale?" Scott added.

"For your own good, stop asking," Buffy ordered. She turned and kept on heading down the hall.

"You know," Scott called after her, "I'm starting to see why Cordelia was so interested in being friends with you! Whatever is going on with you, leave our friends out of it!"

Buffy stopped. Scott's words stung more than she – or he, probably – expected that they would. "I'm trying to get them out of it," she murmured to herself.

Sunnydale High: Outside

Buffy pounded towards the fence that surrounded the school yard. The gate was unlocked still – convenient, she couldn't have any more interruptions. She had to get to Jesse.

"And where do we think we're going, Buffy?" Crap. Principal Flutie. "The bell for homeroom just rang a few minutes ago. You wouldn't be leaving already?"

"What?" Buffy managed, "Me?"

"I mean, you can imagine what I might think if I were to find you leaving school grounds during the day on your second day of school here… after being kicked out of your old school for delinquent behavior? Are you following?" Principal Flutie was nothing if not a master of veiled threats.

"Mr. Giles!" Buffy responded suddenly, "Yeah, I'm… he asked me to get a book for him. From the store. I'm a big reader. And I'm helping him out. Did it say I was a big reader on my transcript? I'm a big reader."

"Mr Giles."

"Go ahead, ask him."

Principal Flutie locked the gate and returned his attention to Buffy. "Doesn't matter. That may have been how he did things in Britain, but they have a royal family and all kinds of other problems there. While your feet are on my school grounds, you will not leave while school is in session. Are we clear?"

"Crystal," Buffy nodded.

"That's the Buffy Summers we want here at Sunnydale." Satisfied, Principal Flutie strode back into the school. As soon as he was gone, Buffy leapt up, grabbing the top of the fence and throwing her legs over it. She landed gracefully on the other side and took off at a run.

Sunnydale Cemetery

Buffy raced towards the mausoleum – she found it quickly enough, but it was just as dark inside as it was in the night, save for the bit of light that came through the entrance. With a resigned sigh, she began to feel around in the dark.

And then she heard footsteps behind her.

"You're the Slayer," a deep, growling voice asked, "Thought you'd have a lot more muscle."

Buffy rolled her eyes, turning to the door. "This again? Someone else with a cryptic warning or threat for me?"

A muscular, scruffy man stood in the entrance. "Came to tell you my sister Laura survived, after she helped you last night. Thought you might care."

"Your sister… the werewolf?" Buffy asked, smiling. "Can you tell her how thankful I am? I owe her one – she saved three lives."

"She's at home, healing," the man informed the Slayer shortly.

"How'd you know I'd be back?" Buffy asked, returning to feeling at the wall.

"Laura guessed there's a nest somewhere in the cemetery," the man explained shortly. His eyes flashed a glowing blue and then he asked, "Are you looking for the door?"

"Yeah," Buffy said hesitantly, "Do you…"

"Werewolf too," the man explained stiffly, stepping into the mausoleum. He strode straight to the back, and hit his fist on metal on the back wall. "Door."

"Who are you?" Buffy asked.

"Derek." He wasn't much of a conversationalist.

Buffy pulled on the door he'd found for her. Locked. "I don't suppose you have a key?"

"No," Derek said humorlessly.

"Alright," Buffy said with a sigh, throwing her foot into the door. The metal crumpled and fell off its hinges into the cavernous tunnel behind it. She turned and looked at Derek invitingly. "You coming?"

"My sister would… not be happy," he said, his voice low. Grumpy.

"I don't want to get her on bad side," Buffy admitted, "She's kinda bad ass." With that said, she ducked inside the cavernous tunnel. These had been dug – this was not the official tunnel on the map – but it had to connect, she was sure of it.

She'd only gone a few paces after her eyes adjusted, when the tunnel split. Guessing, she turned left. It was only a few more paces before a familiar voice stopped her. "Wrong way." It was the stranger from the alley.

"Then why are you here?" Buffy asked.

"They don't like me dropping in."

"Can't imagine you rubbing someone the wrong way," Buffy's voice dripped with sarcasm.

"I thought you'd figure out this entrance sooner," the stranger said, as if confessing a great secret.

"Sorry if you were waiting?" Buffy frowned, "Look, if we're going to keep doing this mysterious wise man thing, I'm gonna need a name."

"Angel," Buffy repeated, "That's… that's pretty."

"Don't go down there," Angel warned.

Buffy shook her head. "Deal with it."

"You can't risk yourself," Angel continued, "The Harvest is tonight. Unless you can stop it, the Master will be free."

"Why don't you stop it?" Buffy demanded, frustrated and exasperated.

Angel stared hard at her. "Because I'm afraid." The honest answer caught Buffy off her guard, leaving her a little shaken. "They're expecting you," Angel went on.

"Can't be helped," Buffy replied, almost apologetically, "I've got a friend down there. Or a potential friend, I guess. Do you know what that's like, to have a friend?"

Angel didn't answer. She reached out and touched his arm gently. "Sorry, didn't mean to stump you."

Angel was all business now, pulling back from her hand. "Just head back that way, turn east when you hit the electrical tunnel and then head towards the school. You'll find them."

"Wish me luck?" Angel didn't immediately comply, so Buffy turned and headed back as he had directed.

Somewhere behind her, she heard the whisper of his voice, "Good luck."

The tunnels were dark and a bit confusing – and there were rats all over the place. Despite the sound of the rodents, she could hear footsteps approaching. Cautiously, she slipped around the corner and into a side tunnel. She knew she didn't want to take this route, but she was hoping she could throw off whoever or whatever was behind her.

"Buffy?" a voice called out hesitantly. Xander.

"What are you doing here?" she called back, coming out of her hiding spot.

Xander shrugged, his silhouette coming into view in the darkness. "Something stupid. I couldn't sit around doing nothing."

"Oh, I get it," Buffy assured him, "Now. Go back."

Xander shook his head stubbornly. "Jesse is my friend and if I can help him, then I'm going to." Buffy nodded hesitantly, realizing arguing would be useless. "Besides," Xander added, "I'll take any excuse to miss Chem. Class."

Sunnydale High: Library

Giles pored over his books, carefully translating many ancient languages. He read each passage outloud, softly, to himself. Finally, he reached a passage that was written beneath a drawing of a triangular symbol.

The contents of this section – originally in Latin – piqued his interest. "For they will gather, and be gathered," he read, "'All is theirs shall be his… From the Vessel pours life. On the night of the crescent moon, the first past the solstice, it will come.'" He paused thoughtfully before inhaling sharply. "Of course it's tonight…"

Sunnydale High: Computer Lab

Jackson hated computer class. It hadn't been so bad when he'd had Danny in it last year to pair up with. Danny was some sort of computer genius – even more so than nerdy Willow – and now he was taking some AP Advanced Programming class with Seniors. Of course, Danny had done most of the work for Jackson but that wasn't why it was better with him in the class.

It was better to talk to Danny than to Cordelia and Harmony. There was an odd number of people in the class, so when everyone had grouped up at the beginning of the semester the three of them had teamed up. It wasn't always something he regretted, but today it was.

"The syntax doesn't match," Cordelia insisted to Harmony.

Harmony, oblivious to the problem with their project, pondered, "Are we going to the Bronze tonight?"

Jackson just rolled his eyes and snatched the keyboard from her. "No, we should go to the other cool place in Sunnydale…" he snarked.

Cordelia nodded. "There's no cover tonight but – oh! Jackson, you should have been there last night!"

And the gossiping had begun. Jackson was not in any mood to hear about which guys were "dating beneath them" by not spending the night making out with the Cordettes, so he decided to head it off at the pass. "I think we did this part wrong."

Cordelia clicked her tongue. "I don't get why we need to make these programs anyways… isn't that what nerds are for?" Jackson shot her a warning glare – he was the only one allowed to call Danny a nerd. "What'd _she_ do?"

All three turned to stare at Willow, at the next computer over. Alone. Harmony leaned over to sneak a look. "That's… that's something else…" she said slowly, giving Willow a strange look.

There was an awkward pause in the conversation. "So… what's the book say?" Jackson asked.

Cordelia wasn't having any more diversions though. "So, I come out of the bathroom and Buffy – new girl, right? She attacks me with a stick. She's screaming, 'I'm gonna kill you!' I swear it."

"What's her deal?" Jackson wondered. This gossip was much more interesting than the usual.

"Uh, she is crazed," Cordelia replied.

Harmony leaned in conspiratorially, though she failed to whisper, "Did you hear about her old school? She got kicked out."

Cordelia shrugged. "I have no surprise."

"Why did she get kicked out?" Jackson found, despite himself, that he was kind of curious… and hopeful that he was getting the scoop before Lydia.

"Because she's psychotic," Cordelia insisted.

"She isn't."

Willow's voice silenced Cordelia immediately. It took a moment for her to even realize Willow was disagreeing with her. "What?"

"She isn't psychotic. You don't even know her," Willow countered.

Cordelia was not about to be shot down by a loser like Willow. "Who even gave you permission to exist?" she snapped, "You don't see me horning in on your private conversations. Do you? No. Do you know why? Because you're boring."

"I think I found it," Harmony said quietly, taking the keyboard from Jackson and pressing a few buttons. She stared thoughtfully at the screen for a minute, then nodded her satisfaction.

Cordelia smiled, "Great! Then we just need to send it in…"

"That'd be the 'deliver' key," Willow said, a helpful tone to her voice as she stood from her own computer and walked to the printer.

Cordelia stared at the keyboard, then jabbed her index finger at a key marked "DEL".

"No!" Jackson protested – but too late. He clapped a hand to his forehead as Cordelia and Harmony stared at the now blank screen, confused.

Tunnels Under Sunnydale

"So, other than the garlic, crosses, stake through the heart…" Xander was counting down on his fingers.

"Sunlight, holy water, fire, and beheading," Buffy finished, "That's all their weaknesses right there."

"Great," Xander said, "But I don't have any of those things."

Buffy smiled and handed him an ornate wooden cross.

"Good," Xander nodded, "Good. The part of my brain that would have told me to bring something like this down here was busy telling me not to come down here. But I did bring something…" He pulled an object from his pocket and clicked it out – a flood of light erupted in the tunnel. A flashlight.

"Turn it off," Buffy warned hastily.

Xander did not need a second bidding. When it had returned to darkness, he questioned, "So you've done some beheading?"

Buffy shrugged weakly. "Yeah, I mean… okay, so this one time, the vampire pinned me down. He played left tackle for varsity, so, you know, he's big. And he has a really thick neck, but all I had was this tiny Exacto knife…" She looked at Xander, whose mouth was hanging wide open. "You are not loving this story."

"It's actually kind of comforting," Xander confessed.

Buffy fell silent though. "We're getting close," she observed.

"How can you tell?" Xander asked.

"No rats." They crept further along the tunnel, until something else caught Buffy's attention. Something lain across the floor. "Okay…" she said hesitantly, "Shine your light on that…"

Xander switched the flashlight on. There was a body lying on the ground. "Jesse!" he exclaimed.

Buffy stared at the unmoving body. "Oh my God, no…" she breathed.

"Is he breathing?" Xander stepped closer to the body – then, suddenly, Jesse flipped over, swinging a metal pipe. Xander jumped back, narrowly avoiding being hit. "Jesse!"

"Xander?" Jesse gasped, "Oh thank God."

"Are you okay?" Xander hugged his friend tightly.

Jesse kicked his leg, rattling a chain that held him to the wall. "Not even in the zip code of okay."

"It's cool, Buffy's a superhero, we're going to get you out of here," Xander explained, his words tumbling out in a nervous rush.

The superhero smiled weakly, taking the pipe from Jesse's hand and smashing it against the chains. The chains broke, freeing Jesse… but making a huge noise. "Yeah, let's not assume nobody heard that," she warned.

As if to confirm this, the sounds of footsteps picked up in the distance. "Oh, that's the other thing," Jesse said cautiously, "They said I was bait. They knew you'd come."

"A trap," Buffy said. She was not surprised.

"Now you tell us," Xander sighed.

"I saw their leader," Jesse added – the fear exhibited in his eyes told Xander not to ask any more questions about that.

"We'll tackle that later," Buffy said, taking command as the footsteps drew closer, "Now, let's get out of here." She waved her hand, indicating they should follow her as she headed back the way they had come from. Only a few steps later, she faltered – shadowy shapes loomed ahead of them. Vampires.

"Wait," Jesse said, pointing to a side passage, "This is the way they brought me. There's gotta be a way out!"

At his urging, the trio raced down the passage. They could hear the vampires coming in behind them. Finally, they passed through the open doorway.

The room on the other side was well lit enough to see that it was a dead end. "I'm thinking this isn't the way out," Buffy said, slow realization dawning on her. She turned, finding the metal doorway and trying to close it – but it was rusted open.

Xander was in full-on panic mode, "We can't fight all those vampires. What do we do?"

"You can die." Jesse's face had changed – he was not the Jesse they'd known the day before. Fangs extended from his mouth, his eyes were yellow. He had the grotesque face of a vampire.

Xander threw himself backwards against the wall. "Jesse," he whimpered, "Oh, man, Jesse, I'm so sorry."

"Don't be sorry," Jesse smirked, "I feel so strong. I'm connected to everything, the world. Can hear the worms in the earth."

"The cross, Xander!" Buffy called, still pushing to shut the door with all of her strength.

Xander closed his hand around the cross, but didn't lift it. "Jesse, we were the best of friends. Try to remember it!"

Jesse smiled, revealing his fangs in all their murderous glory. "I remember. I just don't care."

"Good talk then," Xander scowled. Jesse lunged for him, but not in time to stop Xander from bringing the cross up and pressing it into his former friend's face. Jesse reared back, the symbol searing into his skin.

With a tremendous screech, Buffy got the door to move again. Shutting it suddenly became a secondary priority to saving Xander. She grabbed Jesse as he recovered from the cross and hurled him out the door. Before he could turn back, Buffy slammed the door shut and bolted it. "We need to get out of here," she announced as the sound of vampire pounding on the door began.

"There _is_ no out of here!" Xander exclaimed, staring at the room and noticing the junk and debris scattered around it. And an air vent near the ceiling.

Buffy saw it too. "Yeah there is." She scrambled to build a few steps up to the grate out of the junk around the room, then clambered up to it. She slipped her fingers into the grating and pulled. After a moment that seemed to last forever thanks to the sounds of enraged vampires, the grate pulled free.

That was the same moment that the top of the door pulled away from the wall and the hands of vampires began pressing into the room. The door would not hold much longer.

"Let's go, Xander!" Buffy shouted over the din. He raced up to Buffy, and climbed into the air vent with her help. "Go up!" She pulled herself up into the ventilation. Behind her, she could hear the door crash down.

Sunnydale High Library

Giles sat in front of his books. He was no longer actually reading them – he'd read them. There was little more he could do except wait. He could hear the library door open behind him, and some fast-paced footsteps approach. "Buffy?" he asked, turning in his chair.

"Just me," Willow answered, "No word?"

"None."

"I'm sure they're just great," Willow said with a reassuring smile that made it clear even she didn't believe what she was saying.

Giles returned the faked smile. "Did you find anything?"

Willow placed a stack of printed papers on the table. "I think so?" she replied hesitantly, "I looked online at some old newspapers. So, there was a whole rash of bizarre murders with no suspects that ended when there was this huge earthquake in 1937. It sounded like what you were looking for – throats, no blood. Went on for months and there was not even a clue."

"That's great!" Giles exclaimed, "Excellent. In a terrible sort of way, of course." He eyed his books, pursed his lips and added, "It is all coming together. I rather wish it weren't."

The doors swung open again. Both Giles and Willow turned expectantly and were relieved to see Xander and Buffy striding through. Both looked dishevelled. The horrified, grief-stricken expressions on their faces should have told everything.

"Did you find Jesse?" Willow asked anyways. Xander nodded silently. "Was… was he dead?"

"Worse," Buffy said simply, collapsing into a chair at the table. "We were too late, and they were expecting us."

"At least you're both okay," Willow said.

Xander kicked a wastebasket. "I hate vampires," he snapped, "I'm just gonna come out and say it: vampires are bad."

Buffy sighed and turned to Giles. "Well, Giles, what have you got to make today worse?"

Giles smiled weakly. "Well, you know, the end of the world."

"Thanks, I knew you wouldn't let me down," Buffy replied, exasperated.

"So far, this is what we know. During the thirties, a very old and powerful vampire came here. Not to feed," Giles explained.

"Because of the mystical whoosit?" Buffy asked.

"Yes," Giles went on, "The Spanish called it a 'Boca del Infierno'. A Hellmouth. Not that this is the only one, but perhaps the first that was discovered on this continent. It's a portal from this dimension to… well, as near as anyone knows, Hell. This vampire sought to open it."

"Bring back the really bad demons?" Buffy wondered.

"End the world," Xander added.

Willow nodded grimly. "But there was this earthquake that destroyed – swallowed – like half the town. And, my guess? Him too."

"From what I know of opening dimensional portals," Giles continued, "Chances are he's stuck. Like a cork."

"And this Harvest thing will get him out," Xander guessed.

Giles nodded. "It comes once every hundred years. Tonight, of course. A master vampire can draw energy from one of his minions while it feeds. If he draws enough power, he could break free and finish opening the portal. The minion – the Vessel – will be marked with this symbol, in blood." Giles lifted one of his books off the table and opened it to a bookmarked page, holding it up so that everyone could see the symbol – a three-pointed star.

"Alright," Buffy said, "I dust the guy with that mark and there's no Harvest." Giles nodded his confirmation. "So, where is this cozy little shindig going to be held?"

Giles started to offer a few guesses, but Xander cut him off. "It will be at the Bronze."

Everyone stared at him. "Are you sure?" Willow questioned.

"Tasty, young morsels will be packed in the place. I am positive that's it," Xander explained, "Jesse, at least, will definitely be there."

Giles nodded. "Well, that is our best bet then. We don't have much time to prepare."

"We need supplies. And we need more allies," Buffy said, "I know of a werewolf… I don't know how to find her." She turned to Willow and Xander. "Her name is Laura… she has a brother named Derek? Does that help?"

"Laura and Derek Hale?" Willow wondered, "Do they still live in Sunnydale?"

Xander shrugged. "They are weird, they could be monsters. I'd believe it."

"Great, where do I find them?"

Hale House

Laura was fully recovered from her fight the night before. It had taken most of the day, even with the incredible healing properties of a werewolf. She was enjoying relaxing on the couch with a book. She could hear Derek in the basement below, pounding the punching bag.

And then she heard footsteps outside. Derek must have heard them too, because his exercise stopped. Both of them were out on the porch in a flash. The Slayer.

"What do you want?" Derek called out.

"How did you find us?" Laura asked warily.

She lifted her hands into the air to show she meant no harm. "I need help," she explained, "And my friends told me this might be the place to look for it."

Derek smirked. "Again. Some Slayer." He shot Laura a glare.

"What is it?" Laura inquired.

"There's this thing called the Harvest happening," Buffy answered, "It's… well, basically, it's the end of the world."

Laura's brow furrowed. "That sounds bad."

"You guys know what the Hellmouth is?" Buffy finally reached the porch, but she stopped her approach at the bottom of the steps. The werewolves nodded. "It's going to open. Unless we can stop this thing."

"Where and when?" Derek and Laura asked the question simultaneously.

"The Bronze, we think. Tonight."

"See you there," Laura nodded, "I hope there's a band tonight."

Buffy shook her head. "No band. But I hear there's also no cover, so that's something!"

Church of Aurelius

Luke kneeled before the Master, stripped of his shirt. The Master held out a hand to his servant, who kissed it faithfully. Slowly, the Master turned his hand over so the palm faced the ceiling. Luke kissed it again. Then, with a cautious reverence, Luke brought himself up to the Master's wrist, kissed it… and then sank his fangs into it. He drank deeply.

The blood burned in his mouth – not painfully but in a way that was reminiscent of alcohol. But the burning became more intense the more he drank and after a minute, Luke reared his head back and roared.

"My blood runs with yours, my soul is your province," the Master intoned.

"My body is your instrument," Luke answered ceremonially.

The Master swept blood from his wrist up onto his finger and pressed it to Luke's forehead, drawing the unholy symbol that would make him the Vessel. He continued his speech as he drew. "On this most hallowed night, we are as one. Luke is the Vessel. Every soul he takes shall feed me. Their souls shall grant me power to free myself."

Luke stood and stepped back and bowed before the Master. The Master lifted his own hand and pressed it up against the invisible barrier that held him where he was. It rippled under his touch.

But it would not hold him much longer.

Summers Home: Upstairs

Buffy was extremely pleased with how the meeting with the Hales had gone. She only had one more thing to do before getting to the Bronze – she had to get supplies. Weapons.

"Buffy?" Her mother's tone stopped her cold at the doorway to her bedroom. This meeting was not going to go as well as her encounter with the Hales had. "Are you going out?"

"I have to," Buffy answered.

"I didn't hear you come in last night," her mom said, coming out of her bedroom.

"I was quiet."

"It's happening again already, isn't it?" Her mom was worried. "I got a call from your principal today. He says you missed some classes today."

Buffy nodded. "I was running an errand… for a teacher."

"We haven't even finished unpacking, Buffy. I should not be getting calls from your principal."

"It's not like it was," Buffy promised, "It's not going to be. But I have to go. It's important."

"No," countered her mom, "I know at sixteen years old, everything seems like the end of the world."

"You have no idea," Buffy sighed, "But I don't have time to talk about it…"

Her mom shook her head firmly. "You have all night. You're not leaving this house. I don't care if you spend all night sulking up here, but I am making dinner in a minute if you want to come down."

Buffy shut the door to her room and sighed. It wasn't like she'd never had to sneak out before. She stepped over to the hope chest at the foot of her bed and opened it. It was full of typical teenager belongings – a jewelry box, some magazines, a few pieces of memorabilia from her life in Los Angeles. Buffy wasn't looking for any of this. She reached in and lifted the false bottom out of the chest – revealing a number of stakes, an axe, a crossbow and a quarrel of bolts, a jar of holy water, and several crosses. She armed herself carefully, and packed a gym bag with extra gear.

The Bronze

Stiles peered down at the rest of the club from the balcony above.

"So where do we start?" Scott asked.

Stiles shrugged. "I have no idea. But this is the last place anyone saw Jesse so there's bound to be a clue somewhere…"

"Maybe it has to do with Cordelia?" Scott suggested, "He's always mooning over her." He pointed down to a table where a gaggle of girls – Cordelia, Lydia, Harmony, and some of the more popular members of their clique sat. They could make out Jackson bringing sodas from the bar over to them.

Cordelia was reigning over the conversation at their table – much to Lydia's displeasure. "I just need to date Seniors," she was saying, "The boys in our grade are children. I mean, you saw Jesse last night. Following me around like a sad puppy and he just disappeared when I rejected him. Couldn't take it. Senior boys are so much better, they have mystery and… what is the word I'm thinking of? Cars. They have cars."

Lydia attempted to interrupt, "Jacks—"

"I'm just not going to settle for less in my life," Cordelia went on, "When I go into a clothing store I need to have the most expensive outfit. Not because it's most expensive, don't get the wrong idea. I need it because it costs more."

"That's—" Lydia tried again.

"Can I finish a sentence?" Cordelia snapped. Suddenly, her attention shifted wholly. "I love this song!" She stood and headed for the dance floor. Several of the other girls followed her, though Lydia and a few others remained at the table.

Jackson appeared out of the crowd, two sodas in hand. "Where's Cordy going?"

"Hell, eventually," Lydia smirked. She took the soda from her boyfriend gratefully.

Jackson gazed around the club as he took a seat next to Lydia. He raised an eyebrow when he caught sight of the group of people coming into the club. "Is that Jesse?" As he watched, Jesse entered the club with eight others – one of whom was the bouncer, who appeared to be distressed by whatever was happening. One of the ones Jackson didn't know shut the door behind them – and locked it.

Stiles watched as the main door into the Bronze was locked. "Who are these people Jesse is hanging with?" he asked, worried, "And what are they doing?" Two of them were staying by the door, the others headed throughout the club.

Scott shrugged, his eyes firmly fixed on Jesse. He headed straight for Cordelia on the dance floor. At first she didn't seem happy to see him but then… somehow… her resolve melted. She started dancing with him.

Cordelia moved to the music, her eyes fixed on Jesse. He didn't touch her, just stared at her. She couldn't help herself. He was different tonight. She couldn't put her finger on it. Even though she protested, she actually wanted to dance with him now. "Just one dance," she repeated, "You're lucky I'm feeling so charitable tonight."

Suddenly, the music stopped. The lights went down – except for one spotlight on the stage. "I didn't think there was a band tonight…" Cordelia wondered.

A huge muscular man with a horrible face stood in the spotlight, hand on the microphone. "Ladies and gentlemen," he announced, "There is no cause for alarm. Well, there is, it just won't do any good."

Cordelia pulled away from Jesse, turning to face him again. "We have to get…" she trailed off when she saw his face. It had changed… it was… lumpy? She tried to run, but he grabbed her arm and would not let go. His fingers dug into arm.

"This is a glorious night," the man on the stage announced, "And also the last one any of you will ever see. Bring me the first!"

The bouncer, struggling, was brought up on stage by another person whose face was also grotesque. "What is wrong with your faces?" the bouncer shouted, "What do you want?"

"Your fear is delicious," the man in the spotlight whispered, "Not quite as delicious as blood." He sank his teeth into the bouncer's neck – and after a few minutes dropped his victim's body to the floor.

The man in the spotlight called "Next" and, without even a moment's hesitation, Lydia was snatched up. Jackson called for her – and someone else. She stared up to see Stiles trying to push his way down the stairs, calling out to her. Jackson was being held back by one of the ugly, lumpy-faced people… no one had stopped Stiles yet but she didn't have high hopes that he could do much. The person carrying her was strong – incredibly strong.

She didn't know how they'd reached the stage so quickly – or why they hadn't taken someone closer to the stage. Not that she wanted to watch someone else's neck be cannibalized, but anyone was better than her.

The huge, muscular guy in the spotlight grabbed her up and unceremoniously bit her neck. She screamed – and then she found herself flying through the air. The muscular man tossed her aside and spat. "What was that?" she could hear him snarl. She didn't turn to see what had happened, she just needed to find a place to hide.

"Next!"

Outside the Bronze

"We're too late," Giles whispered, trying to open the locked door.

"I didn't know I was going to get grounded!" Buffy protested.

"Can you break it down?" Xander asked.

Buffy shook her head. "I'm going to try a more subtle approach. You guys go find a door these two _can_ break down?" She pointed at Laura and Derek who – true to their word – had been waiting for them just around the corner from the club. As the group started to head away from Buffy, she stopped them and handed Giles the gym bag full of weaponry.

Giles accepted the bag, and turned to Willow and Xander, "Just remember if you see Jesse… that isn't him. That's what killed him."

The Bronze

Buffy slipped through a window and onto the second floor. There was a vampire near the window, but he wasn't watching her. Quietly, she made her way to rail of the balcony. She filled in an empty space along the railing – right next to Scott.

"Hi Scott," she nodded, whispering, "You should start heading for a door." He may have answered her – she wasn't paying attention. She was surveying the scene below. Jesse and Darla were facing off around Cordelia, who was obviously terrified. But her primary concern was Luke. He was marked with the three pointed star and standing on the stage. There were two bodies in front of him.

"The Vessel…" she whispered.

Scott stared at her. "The what?"

Buffy had been paying too much attention to the floor downstairs – the vampire that had been by the window grabbed her and dragged her down the spiral staircase. She let him. It was probably the fastest way to get to Luke.

Meanwhile, he was monologuing on stage while waiting for the next victim. He must have been an actor or something in life – though probably not a very good one. "Tonight is his Ascension! Tonight will be History at its end! Yours is a glorious sacrifice! Degradation most holy!" He paused in his reverent speech and stared around the room. "No volunteers?"

"Here's a pretty one," Darla answered, pulling Cordelia up to the stage.

"She's mine!" Jesse protested loudly, following.

"They are all for the Master," Darla returned harshly. She passed the struggling, screaming Cordelia to Luke. He smiled and prepared to bite.

And then Buffy freed herself from the vampire dragging her, hurling him over her head and onto the stage. She jumped into the air and landed on top of her assailant, pushing a stake into his chest. He shrieked and exploded into dust. "I'm so sorry to be interrupting," she smirked.

"I'd hoped you'd come," Luke hissed, tossing Cordelia aside.

Buffy shrugged. "You didn't think I'd miss this, did you?"

Laura dug her claws into the side door's frame and pulled. With a horrible sound of metal breaking apart, the door opened. "And we're in," she said with a smile.

"You make it look so easy," Xander muttered, stepping into the club, cross in one hand and a stake in the other. He grabbed the first person he could get to and ushered them out the door. Willow and Giles began to do the same – Derek and Laura made their way deeper inside.

"You want blood, Vessel boy?" Buffy remarked.

Luke snarled, "Right now, just yours."

"Come and get it then," she smiled. He charged, but she was ready. She jumped into the air, kicking Luke in the face with both feet. As he was thrown backwards, she flipped backwards through the air – and landed with a thud on the pool table. She snatched up the pool cue, as another vampire rushed her. Just as he got near, she slammed the pool cue into his chest. He reeled backwards, clutching the cue to him, and then disintegrated.

Luke leapt off the stage towards Buffy – she countered by leaping back at him. She slammed a fist into his chest and both of them fell clumsily to the stage. In a flash, they were both back on their feet, but this time Luke had the edge. He slammed a foot into Buffy's stomach, throwing her backwards across the stage.

Xander spun around as someone grabbed his arm. It was Scott. "What can I do to help?"

"Just get out – and bring as many people with you as you can!" Xander urged. Scott nodded, then headed back into the crowd.

Someone jumped on top of Xander at that moment. He fell to the ground, writhing under the vampire that had attacked him. The cross had been knocked out of his hand when he fell – now it was being trampled just out of his reach.

"Attacking from behind," a voice said coolly from somewhere above them, "I gotta say, I like your style. Too bad about your face." Xander saw a foot moving out of the corner of his eye, and then the vampire was off of him. He clambered to his feet, watching as Laura slashed at the vampire with her claws.

"Laura!" Derek's voice rang out over the panicked din – he'd made it onto the stage, where Buffy was fighting. He hurled a cymbal from the drum set as though it were a Frisbee. Fortunately, Laura saw it – she lifted the vampire into the air, holding him in the way of the airborne musical instrument. It sliced through his neck, severing his head. He had just enough to see Laura's satisfied smirk before he vanished into dust.

Giles pushed his way towards the front doors of the club. If they didn't open more exits, people were going to be trampled to death on top of the murders the vampires were committing. He passed a scared, strawberry blonde girl, clutching her neck and stopped. "What happened to you? Are you alright?"

"I don't know," she whimpered, "I don't know what's happening."

"We'll get you out of here, don't worry," Giles assured her and then resumed his path to the doors – though only for a moment. He was knocked sideways when a blonde vampire tackled him, pushing him onto a table.

He shouted and reached for the cross he'd shoved his pocket, but the vampire pushes his arm away. "It's been so long since I had a taste of Europe," she cooed, licking her fangs.

"Get off of him!" Willow shouted, emerging from the crowd. She hurled the contents of her jar of holy water across the table, splashing both Giles and the vampire. The vampire reared back, her face smoking as the liquid burned her skin. She covered her face with her hands and ran back into the crowd, disappearing among the panicked people.

Derek had leapt on top of Luke after throwing the cymbal – much to Buffy's relief. Derek was obviously a skilled fighter, but Luke was much stronger. The werewolf got in a few good shots before Luke hurled him from the stage.

Buffy took the opportunity to charge, but Luke dodged and grabbed her from behind, catching her in a huge bear hug.

"Master, taste of this and be free!" The vampire brought his head down to sink his fangs into Buffy's neck.

Buffy, however, just rolled her eyes and slammed her head into the vampire's face. "Does it taste good?"

Luke reeled backwards, and Laura pounced, coming out nowhere it seemed.

Xander made his way through the crowd – by now everyone seemed to be making their way out. Now he was on the hunt for one very specific vampire.

And there he was – Jesse. He had Cordelia cornered.

"Jesse, stop it!" Xander ordered, readying his stake. "I know there's part of you still in there."

Jesse rolled his eyes and turned. "Jesse was an excruciating loser who couldn't get a date," he snarled, "Look at me now. I'm a new man." He grabbed Xander and tossed him, easily, on to Cordelia. "See, loser Jesse would have reasoned with you. This Jesse? He's just gonna kill you. You keep getting in the way, and you're nobody. Cordelia, at least, will live forever."

Xander, scared as he was, refused to panic. He readied the wooden stake.

Jesse smirked. "Oh, like you have the guts to end me? You couldn't p—"

"Xander! Jesse!" Stiles' voice interrupted, "We have to get out of here!" Stiles was racing towards them. "So glad I found you—" Midsentence, he tripped, grabbing a hold of Jesse's shoulder to try to regain his balance. Jesse lurched forward, his chest slamming into the stake in Xander's hand. Their former friend gasped and exploded into dust. Stiles fell to the floor in shock. "What… where did…?"

Xander extended his hand to pull Stiles back to his feet. "I'm not really sure I can explain this to you tonight."

Laura had the cymbal stand in hand, and was using it like a staff to block each of Luke's blows. To his credit, he was handling both femme fatales and he barely seemed to be straining himself.

"You forget, metal can't hurt me," he hissed at Laura smugly.

Suddenly inspired, Buffy grabbed the cymbal stand from Laura. "You forgot about something too…" she smirked, "Sunrise!" She hurled the cymbal stand at the blacked out window above the stage, shattering it.

Light poured through the broken glass, Luke hurled himself to the side to avoid it. It took a moment for him to realize he wasn't burning – enough of a moment for Buffy to slam her stake into his undefended back.

"It's in like, nine hours," Buffy reassured him as he disintegrated.

Laura looked up at the streetlight outside the window. "That was clever," shee said, impressed, "Wish you'd thought of it sooner."

"I needed an opening for the clever witticism," Buffy responded with a sheepish smile.

Giles, Willow, and Derek soon joined them on the stage only a few minutes later.

"Xander is with Scott and Stiles," Willow explained, "They're all okay."

"It's over," Giles observed.

"We did it," Derek said, with an impressed smile.

Willow nodded. "Nothing is ever going to be the same."

Church of Aurelius

The Master pressed his hand against the rippling, mystical barrier. He could feel his strength and Luke's mixed together. For the first time in decades, he felt powerful.

And then, without warning, he felt Luke's power vanish. He fell to his knees and roared in anger. The Slayer. She was the only one who could have stopped the Harvest.

She would pay for this.

Sunnydale High: Outside

Cordelia strode across the grounds, passing Buffy, Willow, and Xander. "I heard it was gangs," she was telling the Cordettes, "But the weirdest thing is, Buffy totally knew them. It was a total freak show."

"I can't believe we were almost nice to her," Harmony said, with a disbelieving shake of her head.

"Everything's the same," Willow said, aghast.

Buffy shrugged. "What did you expect?"

Xander replied, "Well, I mean. The dead rose. Shouldn't there have been an assembly?"

"People tend to rationalize or forget what they can't explain," Giles explained, approaching the group.

"I won't forget it," Willow replied, "Never."

Giles nodded. "Good, next time you'll be better prepared."

"Next time?" Xander stammered.

"I doubt the Master's just going to give up," Giles answered, "I'd guess the fun is just beginning. And this is a center of mystical convergence, a Hellmouth. All kinds of creatures may be drawn to it. Not just vampires. We may be all that stands between the Earth and complete destruction."

"This is not good," Xander pointed out.

"On the bright side, I could still get kicked out," Buffy jumped in.

Xander nodded exuberantly at the thought. "And then you could go to a school that's not on a Hellmouth!"

"They're super strict about blowing things up," Willow suggested.

"What if I just excessively didn't study?" Buffy wondered.

"The Earth is doomed." Giles sighed heavily and walked away.

Scott slipped out of the passenger seat of Stiles' jeep. "Look, Stiles, we should probably just drop it," he argued, "This is obviously dangerous."

"Which is why I want to know what's going on!" Stiles countered.

Scott shook his head. "No, Stiles. Come on! People died last night."

Stiles nodded. "I know. And I can't explain it. I can't explain the bumpy faces, I can't explain the disappearing Jesse, and I can't explain the death by… necking. But Scott, Jesse was our friend. Or is our friend. Or… wherever he is, we're friends!"

Scott shook his head. "I know, Stiles, but even if we get an answer, what can we do? I mean we've never even gotten off the bench in a lacrosse game. And I'm asthmatic! We're just not heroes, Stiles."


	3. Episode 3: Wolf Moon

**Wolf Moon**

McCall House

Scott spat in the sink and rinsed his toothbrush. He'd already strung the head of his lacrosse stickWith lacrosse tryouts the next day, he needed a lot of rest. And he hadn't been getting a lot of sleep since Jesse had disappeared two weeks earlier. He was on edge, and he couldn't help himself. He sighed to himself and stepped out of the bathroom, flipping off the lights as he passed through the doorway.

And then he heard a noise from outside. He rushed out into the hallway, snatched up the metal baseball bat his mother kept there, and headed for the door. Cautiously, he made his way out onto the porch, bat at the ready.

And then something fell. He screamed. It was like a body, dangling from the roof. It took him a minute to realize it was screaming too. And it was Stiles. "Stiles! What are you doing?" Scott shouted.

"You weren't answering your phon!" Stiles shouted back, dangling by his feet from the roof, "You have a bat! What do you have a bat for?"

"I thought you were some kind of predator!" Scott exclaimed.

Stiles shook his head – the motion was enough to dislodge him from the roof and he tumbled into the bush below. He emerged moments later with nothing but his dignity damaged. "Listen," he said, "I was listening to my dad's calls today and… some joggers found a body in the woods. They are even bringing in the state police!"

"A dead body?" Scott wondered.

Stiles just stared at him. "No. A body of water. Of course a dead body, you dumbass."

"Murdered?"

"They only know it's a girl, 20-something," Stiles explained, "We're going!"

"Why are you so interested?" Scott questioned.

"Oh, right," Stiles grinned, "They only found _half_ the body. They're looking for the other half. You have to come with me!" Scott rolled his eyes. So much for a good night's sleep.

* * *

Sunnydale Nature Preserve

"I can't believe you talked me into this," Scott groaned as he and Stiles strode steadily, but quickly, through the trees. Stiles was in the lead with the flashlight – a light that was hardly necessary given how bright the moon was. "I need a lot of rest for lacrosse tomorrow…"

"Yeah," Stiles quipped, "Warming the bench is such a gruelling effort."

Scott scowled. Ordinarily, he'd have found Stiles entertaining, but right now he was tired, and his asthma was starting to make breathing hard. "I'm making first line this year."

Stiles smirked. "Well, at least you have a dream. Even if it's pathetically unrealistic."

"So, which half of the body is it?" Scott asked, desperate to change the subject now.

"I didn't actually think about that," Stiles replied, "I have no idea."

"What if whatever killed the body is still out here?" Scott pressed on.

"Didn't really think that far ahead," Stiles admitted.

"And if the cops looking for the other half of the body find us?"

Stiles just shrugged.

"Comforting to know you've planned this with your usual attention to detail," Scott replied. His sarcasm probably would have come across better if he hadn't been gasping for air.

"Wait a second," Scott gasped, leaning up against a tree. He fished around desperately in the pocket of his hoodie. His inhaler was in there somewhere. "And next time, maybe the ashmatic can have the flashlight?" As soon as his connected with the vital medicine, he started using it.

Stiles barely heard. He scrambled up the hill ahead of them – then froze. He wasn't stopping because of Scott's request. He saw something. Suddenly panicking, he switched off the flashlight and started to turn

"Who's there?" a voice shouted. A light shined through the woods and hit Stiles. Down the hill, Scott slid around the tree he was leaning on for cover.

"This delinquent is mine," another voice said. Scott recognized it immediately as Sheriff Stilinski, Stiles' father. They were in huge trouble now. "You listen to all of my phone calls?"

"Of course not!" Stiles argued, "Not the boring ones."

"Where is your usual partner in crime?"

"Xander? He's with Willow…" There was silence, during which Scott could only assume the Sheriff was scowling. Stiles continued. "Scott? Oh, you know him. He wanted to get a good night's sleep before lacrosse starts up. I'm alone."

"Get in the car, Stiles, you're going home." Sheriff Stilinski did not sound impressed or convinced.

"But I drove, Dad," Stiles protested, "I took the Jeep!"

"Then I will drop you off where you parked and I will follow you while you drive it home. Before then, we are going to chat about this thing called 'invasion of privacy'," the Sheriff was using his strict voice. Scott had been terrified of that tone of voice as a kid. Now it pretty much only scared Stiles.

Scott listened to them stomp away for a minute, leaves crunching under their feet, before heading back in the direction he was pretty sure they'd come from. He scampered through the trees – hoping he'd make it back to the Jeep in time to hide in it before Stiles and his father showed up. He was so focused on getting back that he stopped watching his feet – and fell to the ground. When he turned to stare down at what had tripped him, he let out a shrill yell of terror.

He'd found the body. Well, half of it.

He scrambled to his feet and set off at a run, tumbling down a hill and crashing to the leaf-strewn ground at the foot of it. He clambered back upright, breathing heavily. He fished in his pocket for his inhaler again. Nothing. It must have fallen out some time earlier – when he tripped on the body?

Scott twisted his head to look back up the hill – and that is when he saw it. A wolf. It was staring straight at him. Inhaler forgotten, Scott took off at a run again. He could hear the wolf racing after him – and gaining on him. Then suddenly, it leapt into the air and slammed its front paws into his back, knocking Scott to the ground. It's teeth sank into his side. Scott closed his eyes, whimpering in pain and sure he was going to die.

And then the wolf was gone. Scott's eyes flickered open and he stared around in the woods. There was no sign of it. Panicked, he ran in the direction he thought the road might be in.

Sure enough, he made it out to the road a few minutes later. Out of the woods, Scott finally felt safe enough to check the wound. It was bleeding but not profusely, and it hurt like hell, but it seemed like something he could probably bandage himself when he got home. And then go to the hospital after lacrosse. He started trodding back towards where Stiles had parked the Jeep.

* * *

Sunyale High: Outside

Unlike most mornings, Scott did not ride to school with Stiles today. Despite his wound – and late night, he was energized, excited! School wasn't all that far from his house, so he biked.

When he got there, Stiles was waiting for him at their usual spot. "Let's see it," he demanded.

Willow and Xander, also sitting on the bench there despite how much time they'd been spending with Buffy lately – both looked up. "See what?" Xander asked. Scott had only called Stiles, and apparently he hadn't gossiped about it. Much.

Obediently, Scott lifted his shirt, revealing the large bandage he'd had to apply to his side. It was good his mother was a nurse, he'd picked up enough medical know-how from her that he could patch up most anything. "It was dark," Scott said, "But I'm pretty sure it was a wolf."

For a moment, no one said anything. "Pretty sure it wasn't," Stiles said finally.

"Hey, I saw it," Scott insisted.

Stiles nodded. "Oh, yeah, I know that. But there aren't wolves in California. I mean, there hasn't been a wolf in California for like sixty years."

Scott blinked. "Really?"

"Yes, really," Stiles answered, "There are no wolves in California."

Xander looked at Willow, eyebrows raised. "Right," he said, "No wolves here."

"Well, if you guys don't believe me about the wolf," Scott replied with a mischievous smile, "You are definitely not going to believe me about the body."

"You found a body?" Xander questioned.

"So sure I don't want to be here for the rest of this," Willow groaned.

Stiles was nearly jumping in excitement. "You found it? Are you kidding me?"

"I wish I was," Scott shook his head, "I'm going to have nightmares for a month."

"I know that feeling," Willow sighed.

"That is awesome," Stiles exclaimed, "This is the best thing to happen to me since…" He paused, stammering for words. And then – as if on cue – he spotted Lydia. "Since the birth of Lydia Martin." He waved at her and shouted, "Hey Lydia! You look…"

Lydia, for her part, did not seem to hear or see Stiles. It was like he didn't exist at all.

"You look like you're going to ignore me," he finished lamely.

Xander smirked. "Are we surprised? She's a Cordette and we're…"

"You guys have just brought me down to your nerd level," Stiles interrupted, "I'm a nerd by association."

Scott stared at Stiles quizzically. He was pretty sure that could not be any more opposite from the truth.

Sunnydale High: English Classroom

The classroom was abuzz with rumors about the body. Dead bodies in Sunnydale weren't wildly uncommon, but half of a dead body was surely something to talk about. Scott was staying as quiet as possible on the subject, after his harrowing experience. None the less, no one was going to stop gossiping until the teacher put a stop it himself.

"I know your minds are whirring with macabre scenarios," he said, writing on the board, "But you have had plenty of time to discuss them already. As such, your minds can now whir about _Metamorphosis_ which I am certain all of you have finished reading by now." He stared sternly about the classroom.

Suddenly, a startlingly loud cell phone ringer struck Scott's ear. He stared about the classroom in annoyance. Stiles was doodling in his notebook. Harmony was applying some sort of nail polish. Willow, of course, already had her hand in the air. Buffy was flipping through the pages of the book in question, probably hoping she could catch at least one thing that would make her seem like she'd read it. No one else could hear the ring.

And then it stopped – replaced by an enchanting female voice that Scott had never heard before. "Mom, you can't call me at school. And three calls in the first hour is really overdoing it," the voice said. "No, I'm not in class now. Principal Flutie is about to walk me to my first class." There was a pause and then… "Oh my God. I can't believe I forgot a pen – who forgets to bring a pen on their first day? Oh, Mom, I gotta go. Bye."

"So sorry about the wait," Principal Flutie's bubbly voice intoned, "Let's not get you any later for your very first class here!"

Scott could not for the life of him figure out where the voices were coming from. Was he losing his mind? Literally no one else in the classroom could hear them. Nor could they hear the pounding sound of footsteps drawing closer.

Suddenly, the door opened. Principal Flutie stepped in – followed by a beautiful, raven-haired girl who was intently watching the floor. "Sorry to interrupt!" Principal Flutie said. Neither his tone nor his cheerful grin implied that he was at all apologetic. "New student, class. This is Allison Argent. I know you'll make her feel just as welcome as you've made Buffy feel!"

Buffy, for her part, did not react at all – though Scott was sure she knew she wasn't popular with him or Stiles (or much of any one else) despite her suddenly and remarkably close association with Xander and Willow. He did not like people who lied to him, and he did not like people who put his friends in dangerous situations. And he certainly did not like people who knew more about the disappearance of one of his other best friends and didn't tell anyone anything.

But he did like people who looked like Allison.

"Hi," she said softly, giving a half-wave to the class. Her voice was definitely the enchanting one Scott had heard just minutes before. The teacher motioned towards the desks and informed her what book she'd need to read to catch up. She moved to the empty desk immediately behind Scott.

He couldn't help himself – he snatched a spare pen from out of his bag and held it out to her with a grin. She stared at it for a minute, eyebrows knitted together in confusion. Then she took it, and smiled brightly. "Thanks."

* * *

Sunnydale High: Hallways

Allison stayed a minute after class to talk to the teacher before heading out into the wild halls of her new high school. A blonde girl was waiting right outside the door. "Hi," she said with a genuine smile, "I just wanted to introduce myself. I'm Buffy. I'm the other new girl."

"Allison," she answered, reaching out and shaking Buffy's hand.

"I have to run, but I just thought it'd be nice to know you're not the only one who doesn't know anyone yet."

"Thanks," Allison replied. In a flash, Buffy was gone. She seemed a little weird, but it was nice of her all the same.

She was amazed at how quickly she was able to find her locker – and how easily she was able to open it. Of all the numerous schools she'd been to, with all of the times her family had moved, this one was off to a strangely good start. Two potential friends in under an hour.

"Where is that killer jacket from?" a voice demanded, "I just love it."

"Oh, this?" Allison turned. A strawberry blonde girl was standing in front of her, grinning ear to ear. "My mom used to be a buyer for some stores in San Francisco."

"We are going to be best friends, I can tell already. I'm Lydia."

Allison introduced herself in turn – and then a stunningly handsome boy appeared and draped his arm over Lydia.

"Hi Jackson," Lydia said, landing a smooch on the guy who was obviously her boyfriend.

"Did I hear you say you're from San Francisco?" Jackson asked.

Allison shook her head. "No, we just… we lived there for more than a year, which is really unusual for my family."

Jackson nodded, clearly not actually very interested. "Well, hopefully you'll stay in Sunnydale for a while. Or whatever."

"So," Lydia jumped in, "This weekend we're having a party at my house. You're coming, absolutely. Friday night."

"I can't," Allison sighed, "It's family night. Thanks for asking, I'll absolutely catch the next one."

Jackson shook his head. This was clearly not acceptable. "Everyone who's anyone at this school is coming. After the scrimmage."

"Oh, you mean like football?" Allison asked.

Jackson chuckled. "No, no. Football here is a joke. The only winning sport here is lacrosse. State championship the past three years."

"Coincidentally the same time a certain captain of the team started playing," Lydia added with a proud look in her eyes.

"We've got practice after school – you're more than welcome to come watch," Jackson invited.

* * *

Scott couldn't help but smile, even watching – and listening to – Allison with some of his least favorite people in the school. She was the most beautiful girl he'd ever seen.

"How is she here all of five minutes," Willow was complaining, "And she's in with Lydia?"

"She's hot," Stiles said with a confident nod, "Hot people herd together."

Scott was not paying any attention whatsoever. Allison had just spotted him and smiled at him. At that moment, it didn't matter who she was hanging out with.

* * *

Sunnydale High: Lacrosse Field

"You can't play!" Stiles complained, "Who am I going to talk to on the bench? You would do that to me? Your very best friend?"

Scott rolled his eyes. "I can't sit out any more. My whole life, I just sit on the side lines," he answered grumpily, "I need to play. I'm determined. I'm making first line."

"Probably the first severe asthmatic ever to make first line," Stiles joked. His attention shifted almost immediately, however – Allison and Lydia were climbing up the bleachers on the other side of the field. Lydia's hair was practically glowing red in the sunlight, and the light breeze blew it back like she was some kind of model.

Scott noticed too – he was obviously eyeing Allison about as intently as Stiles was eyeing Lydia. Allison's smile indicated she had noticed this too, and she didn't mind.

"McCall!" Coach Finstock shouted, "Get in goal!"

Scott spun around to stare at the coach. "I've never played it!"

"I know," the coach explained, "I want to build some confidence. It's the first day back. Try not to take any in the face."

* * *

Allison watched as the boy who had given her that pen made his way into the goal. Hesitantly, she leaned over to Lydia. "What's his deal?"

Lydia shrugged. "Oh, I've seen him around. He's…" She paused. "Okay, I'm not really sure who he is. Scott somebody. Why?"

"Oh," Allison stammered, "He's… uh… he's in my English class." She noticed he was staring in their direction from the goal – and though his helmet covered his face, she got the sense he knew that they were talking about him.

And then the coach blew the whistle, and Scott grabbed his helmet like his head was about to explode.

* * *

The whistle was the loudest thing Scott had ever heard. It bore into his brain for what seemed like eternity, even though he was sure the coach had only blown a quick blast.

By the time he'd gathered his wits about him enough to even look up, the first player – Isaac Lahey, by the look of him – had thrown the first ball towards the goal. It slammed into the helmet and knocked Scott backwards into the goal. The team cheered.

But Scott was determined. He clambered to his feet and got his lacrosse stick ready. The next player came forward – this one had to Vernon Boyd. He was a loner, but he was a good player. Scott swallowed his nerves and watched the ball.

It coursed through the air as if in slow motion. Scott caught it with his lacrosse stick easily. He could hear a surprised but encouraging shout from Stiles.

Danny hurled the next ball – and Scott caught that one just as easily. Then the next. And the next.

"Seems like he's really good," Scott heard Allison whisper to Lydia.

"Apparently," Lydia returned, her surprise evident in her tone.

And then Jackson stepped forward. Well, more accurately, Jackson pushed his way to the front of his teammates. It was no secret that Jackson did not like Scott or Stiles, and did not want them on the team at all. Scott showing actual skill in the game would be completely unacceptable to him. Jackson charged, leapt into the air, and hurled the ball from his own lacrosse stick.

But Scott caught it just as easily as the others. Whatever was going on, Scott wasn't sure. But he definitely liked it.

Lydia shrieked excitedly from the stands, Allison clapping from beside her. Stiles, meanwhile, shouted loudly and proudly, "That's my best friend! That guy!"

* * *

Sunnydale Nature Preserve

Stiles stared at the back of Scott's head skeptically.

"I can hear things I shouldn't be able to hear," Scott went on, "And lacrosse practice? I don't know where that came from. And I never once ran out of breath! And, oh, right! I can smell things I would never have been able to smell before."

"Oh, right?" Stiles quipped, "Like what?"

"You have a piece of mint mojito gum in your pocket," Scott observed.

"I do no—" Stiles started to protest, sliding his hand into his pocket. He stopped himself, though, as he extracted a single piece of gum. Chewed, of course, and wadded up inside the wrapper. "That's gross."

"I think it's an infection," Scott continued, "Like, it's pumping my body full of adrenaline and then I'm going to go into shock."

Stiles scratched his head. "Maybe it is. I think I know what it is… you ever heard of lycanthropy?" With the strange things that happened in this town – most notably the violence at the Bronze and Jesse's disappearance – Stiles figured he'd test the water on this. If Scott believed him, then that was something they could look into. If Scott didn't… well, it was just a joke, right?

"What's that?" Scott asked.

Stiles made a howling noise, or his best attempt at one, and grinned mischievously. Scott just shoved him lightly.

"I'm being serious," Scott groaned.

"Alright, alright," Stiles relented, "I was just kidding. Unless I wasn't, and I guess we'll find that out at the full moon on Friday."

"The body was around here somewhere, I swear," Scott announced, looking at the ground and not-so-subtly changing the subject, "But I don't see my inhaler…"

"Maybe the killer moved the body," Stiles guessed, "Or the cops."

"I hope they left my inhaler, those are like eighty bucks!"

"Dude!" Stiles caught sight of a man clad all in the black, a leather jacket completing his badass look. He was just staring at the two of them.

Finally, he spoke. "You two are trespassing on private property."

"Sorry," Scott stammered, "I'm just looking for… something. We'll go."

"Good." Without another word, he tossed something through the air, which Scott caught. He held it up to Stiles – his inhaler. Then, the stranger stalked away.

It took Stiles a minute to put it together but when he did, he gasped. "Do you know who that was?"

"No?" Scott muttered, his focus still on his inhaler.

"I think that was Derek Hale," Stiles gasped, "I wonder what he's doing back in town. I mean… you remember the fire right? Killed his whole family, practically."

Scott nodded grimly. "I remember that. He's only a few years older than us – didn't he go to New York or some place? Why is he back?"

Stiles shrugged and glanced down at his watch. "You know, we'll figure that mystery out later."

"Right, I have to get to work soon," Scott realized.

* * *

Sunnydale Veterinary Office

Doctor Deaton had left early that night, leaving Scott to close up the shop and feed the animals staying overnight. Scott immediately checked his bandage – it had bled through some time during the day. Time to change the dressing. He lifted the taped edge of the bandage and tore up, gritting his teeth. The skin underneath was perfectly mended – no scarring or anything. He squinted in confusion, staring down where the injury had been. He stared at it in the mirror in the bathroom. No sign of it. Confused, he ran his fingers along the skin. It was completely unmarred.

He shrugged. That meant, at least, he could get his work done without worrying about it. But as soon as he brought food into the room where the cats were kept overnight, they suddenly began freaking out. Hissing, spitting, clawing at the cages or cowering up against the back wall. Obviously he wasn't going to feed them now – not until he could figure out what had gotten into them. In the mean time, he did have other things he could be doing.

But Scott didn't have time to dwell on it – someone started pounding on the door. It had started raining before Doctor Deaton had even left – and by now it was raining so hard anyone who was coming by the vet definitely had a very good reason.

* * *

Stilinski House

Stiles was barely in the house when the phone rang. He certainly hadn't dried off from the torrential downpour outside. He ran to answer it, but his dad was too fast answering upstairs. That didn't mean Stiles couldn't listen in.

"Sheriff Stilinski, we have the analysis back on the corpse," a voice was saying, "We found hairs. Animal hairs."

"Right," Sheriff nodded, "I know about the hairs. What did they come from?"

"A wolf," the voice replied, "But… this is California."

Stiles nearly gasped, but managed to restrain himself so he wouldn't get busted listening in again.

The Sheriff responded stiffly, "We'll put out an alert for anyone who sees a… uh… a wolf to call us. The Mayor will want to know."

As soon as the brief conversation was over, Stiles hung up the phone.

* * *

Sunnydale Veterinary Office

Scott was thrilled – although caught completely off guard – to find Allison at the door of the clinic. His excitement quickly melted away when he realized she was in a blind panic. It was hard to tell if she was crying, given the cascade of rain outside. He opened the door to the clinic and let her inside.

"I was just changing the song on my iPod," her words tripped over each other in her panic, "And this dog… it just came out of nowhere."

"Where did it happen? Can you take me to it?" Scott was all business now – even though he desperately wanted to comfort her. Dog first, girl later.

"No, I mean… yes, I know where I hit it, but the dog," Allison inhaled deeply – she was clearly running out of breath, "The dog is in my car." Allison drove a small, silver SUV that was the only thing in the parking lot other than Scott's bike. The two of them headed out into the pouring rain and she opened the back of the vehicle.

Immediately, the dog barked and howled. Allison stepped back. "Now it won't let me near it," she said, her brow knitting together with worry.

Scott smiled reassuringly. "She's just scared."

"That makes two of us," Allison forced a smile back.

Scott leaned in to the dog. He felt something come over him – like suddenly he could understand the wounded dog. And the dog visible relaxed. She allowed Scott to tenderly pick her up and bring her inside.

Once Scott had gotten the dog onto the examining table, he set to work quickly. As far as he could tell, she'd only broken a leg. He'd seen Doctor Deaton set splints a thousand times, he was sure he could it himself.

Allison, on the other hand, was shivering in her soaking wet clothing.

"I have a spare shirt in my bag," Scott offered, pointing to his backpack on the counter behind him.

"I don't want to be any more trouble," Allison shook her head.

Scott smirked. "It's no trouble, I promise." He stepped over to the bag, unzipped it, and took a sweatshirt out. With a genuine smile, he handed it to her. "Here."

Allison gratefully accepted the shirt and stepped into the next room to change while Scott set the leg, glancing up occasionally to check on Allison. Through the window he could just make out her back… and the fact she wasn't wearing a bra.

The dog whimpered, bringing his attention back to his work. "I didn't see anything," he muttered to the wounded canine.

Allison stepped back into the room just as he was finishing with the cast. "Thanks for doing this," she said, "I feel so dumb."

"How come?" Scott asked.

Allison shrugged. "I freaked out like a total girl."

"You are a girl," Scott observed.

"I'm not that kind of girl," Allison countered, "I'm not a girly girl."

Scott smiled at her. "What kind of girl are you?"

"Tougher than that," Allison said vaguely, "At least, usually."

"I'd be freaked out too. I'd probably have cried," Scott admitted, "Not manly crying either. Like, the girliest crying you've ever seen. Truly pathetic."

"Oh, yeah, right," Allison giggled.

"Looks like she's going to live. I think she'll let her pet you now," Scott said, running his hand along the dog's fur, "She's much calmer."

Tentatively, Allison reached out to pet the dog.

"So," Scott said hesitantly, "Is it really family night on Friday or… maybe, would you want to go to that party with me?"

"Family night was a lie," Allison said, her face breaking into a full on smile.

Scott raised his eyebrows. "So that's a yes?"

"Definitely yes."

Scott didn't stop smiling for the rest of the night, even when he went home and crawled into bed. He didn't stop smiling at all until he woke up in the woods.

* * *

Sunnydale Nature Preserve

Scott spat a leaf out of his mouth and stared around him. He was still wearing what he'd slept in – a ratty old pair of shorts he'd never willingly leave the house in. But he had definitely left the house. He was on a rock that was positioned precariously over the river that flowed through these woods.

Unnerved, Scott started heading away from the river. Fortunately he had a good sense of direction, so he was pretty sure he could get home without any problems. Whether he'd be on time for school – that remained to be seen. But the sun was still pretty low; it was definitely early.

That wasn't much comfort for long though – a growl behind him alerted Scott he wasn't alone. He twisted his head and looked. That was definitely the wolf that he'd seen the other night.

It started running – and so did Scott. He scrambled through the woods, listening to the heavy pounding of paws on dead leaves behind him. The thing was massive, and it was fast. But somehow, Scott was managing to stay ahead of it. And he was breathing fine.

A picket fence appeared ahead of hm. He just had to get over it… he vaulted over it as soon as he reached it. He only saw the pool in time to take a deep breath before going under.

When he emerged, he saw a man staring at him from his patio. Scott stared at him and managed to stammer, "Good morning, sir."

* * *

Sunnydale High: Boys Locker Room

The school day had passed mostly uneventfully – except for Scott telling all his friends about his upcoming date with Allison at lunch.

He changed clothes, got his gear out of his locker, and turned around – ready to be the first one on the field too. Instead, he found himself face to face with Jackson – who looked furious.

"Where are you getting your juice?" Jackson hissed.

Scott blinked at him. "Uh… what?"

"Where are you getting your juice?" Jackson repeated.

Scott raised his eyebrows. "My mom does all the grocery shopping…"

Jackson was having none of this. He advanced predatorily, forcing Scott up against his locker. "There is no way you – of all people you – got that good at lacrosse without some kind of chemical boost."

"Steroids?" Scott gasped, "Wait, are you on steroids?"

Jackson slammed his fist into the locker next to Scott's head. "I don't know what's going on with you—"

"Me either!" Scott exclaimed, "I can hear things, do things that I should never be able to do or hear… and apparently, now I sleepwalk into the woods! I swear I've gotta be losing my mind!" It actually felt good to get that all off his chest – even if it was Jackson.

Jackson didn't seem to appreciate the bonding moment they could have shared. "You're trying to be funny but I'm not laughing," Jackson said in a low, warning tone. "I'm going to find out what's going on with you. I promise." He stalked away, defeated, as the rest of the team entered the locker room.

Stiles, appearing from the mass of lacrosse players, grabbed Scott's arm and dragged him over to one side of the room – away from the rest of the team. "Scott, I haven't had a chance to talk to you alone all day and I can't wait any more!" he bubbled, "The results came back on some animal hairs my dad found on the body, right? Guess what they were?"

"I have to get on the field, Stiles," Scott muttered, pulling away. He was sure he didn't want to think about that night any more. Especially now that the wolf seemed to be stalking him.

"Wolf hairs, Scott," Stiles crossed his arms over his chest, as if daring Scott to ignore the news. He was clearly surprised when Scott did just that and strode out towards the lacrosse field.

* * *

Sunnydale Lacrosse Field

Stiles was more than a little put off by Scott today. The only real conversation they'd had all day was at lunch – when Xander, Willow, and Buffy had all been with them. The new girl, Allison had walked by and said hi to Scott – which triggered an entire discussion about the date he was taking her on. If you considered Lydia's lacrosse party a date. Other than that, Scott seemed to be avoiding him entirely, and most especially was avoiding talking about their adventures in the woods.

Even now – with all the lacrosse team standing around Coach Finstock, Scott was standing on the other side of the coach.

Coach, meanwhile, was giving one of his rousing speeches. "Alright, so we're scrimmaging. And I'm gonna be judging. If you don't make the cut, you're probably going to be sitting on the bench the whole season. If you do make the cut… you play! Your parents are proud! Your girlfriend loves you. Every thing else is gravy and life is great. So go." He blew into his whistle and the scrimmage started.

It was probably thirty five seconds before Coach pulled Stiles off the field and sat him on the bench. That gave Stiles a clear view of Scott on the field – dodging the other players with a kind of grace and agility that Stiles had never seen in his best friend in their entire lives.

And then Scott caught the ball. He ran with it – and then Jackson slammed into him. He knocked Scott to the ground and – in the seconds it took for Scott to get back up, just stood over him, smug as a dog with a bone.

When play continued, Scott got the ball straight away – and then he dodged his way through all of the players, charging for the goal. When Jackson tried to get in his way, Scott leapt into the air and literally flipped over his opponent before easily tossing the ball through Danny's legs to score the goal.

The students on the bleachers erupted into cheers. Even some of the lacrosse players erupted into cheers. Stiles was less thrilled. Something incredibly weird was happening with his friend. And he was going to find out what, before this friend disappeared as well.

Jackson, likewise, looked less than thrilled. And Coach Finstock… looked like Finstock always did. "McCall! Get over here!" he shouted, "What in God's name was that?" He continued to holler until Scott stood in front of him. "This isn't gymnastics, this is lacrosse! What did you think you were doing out there?"

"I was just trying to make the shot," Scott said lamely.

"Well you made it," Coach Finstock said in a tone so low that Stiles could barely hear it, "And you know what else you made? First line! You're playing the season, buddy!"

* * *

Sunnydale High: Library

Stiles couldn't remember the last time he was at the school after the sun had set. He wasn't sure he'd be able to find who he was looking for this late, but he truly had no idea of where else to look. He inhaled deeply and, steeling himself, threw the doors open and strode into the library. He was caught a little off guard to find not only the creepy librarian but Buffy – who was holding a sword.

"I thought this was the place to go for weirdness," Stiles said coolly, "Good to see I was right."

Buffy dropped the sword onto the table and smiled innocently. "It's… it's a fake sword."

Stiles shrugged. "Yeah, okay, sure thing. Listen, do you know of any way someone might be cured of asthma overnight?"

The librarian glanced hesitantly at Buffy, who stared at him.

Stiles pressed onwards. "Look, I know that you know what happened to Jesse, how he just… vanished. Now something is happening to Scott. I mean, something in the woods bit him and now he's actually good at sports and his asthma is miraculously cured. One of you is going to tell me something."

"Bit?" Buffy stammered.

"Yeah," Stiles repeated, "Bit. Some kind of animal. He says it was a wolf but… there's no wolves in California…" He trailed off. Well, there hadn't been. "Except there might have been one the other night."

Buffy sighed. "Giles, I know you think too many people at this school know what's going on, but if something bit Scott and now he's changing…"

"Yes, I agree, Buffy," Giles admitted, "Stiles, I'm going to give you some books and Buffy and I are going to explain some things to you which may be difficult to accept."

* * *

Hale House

Buffy strode up the house confidently. She and Laura had just had coffee after school two days ago – and surely if there was another werewolf in town, she or Derek would know something about it.

Derek appeared on the porch just before Buffy reached it. "What do you want?" he growled.

Buffy was a little taken aback. "I want to see Laura, of course. And you. There might be—"

"Like you don't know?" Derek spat.

"Don't know what?" Buffy asked.

Derek grimaced. "Laura is dead. Some time after she left to have coffee with you she was killed in those woods." He pointed to the woods that surrounded the house. The Sunnydale Nature Preserve. The Hale house seemed to be on the side of the woods opposite most of the town, but fairly near the town's cemetery. Of course Laura would have been in those woods on the way home from coffee.

Buffy furrowed her brow. "What are you saying, exactly? You think that killed her?"

Derek smirked. "Aren't you the Slayer? Isn't killing monsters what you do?"

Buffy shook her head. "Laura was my friend, not a monster."

Derek clearly didn't want to continue the conversation any further. He charged at Buffy – wolfing out as he did. He tackled her to the ground, but she kicked up at his abdomen and sent him flying back towards the house. He leapt to his feet, but Buffy was faster – and stronger. She practically flew into his chest, knocking him back to the ground, and pinned him.

"Stop it," she demanded, "Listen to me. I think there's another werewolf. It bit a friend of mine, Scott. And if I had to guess, it killed Laura."

"Another wolf?" Derek gasped, more trying to regain his breath than out of surprise, "That explains why I'm not…" He trailed off. "I'll find it. Stay out of pack business, Slayer." He shoved her off of him and strode back into the house.

* * *

Stilinski House

Stiles had spent hours since he'd left the library. He truly could not say what had surprised him most about his discussion with Buffy and Giles – that supernatural things were real was absolutely not it, but it was pretty shocking to think of Buffy as a mystical superhero. On the other hand, it was pretty shocking to learn that Jesse had been a vampire the last time Stiles had seen him. And on yet another hand, it was pretty shocking to think that Scott might be turning into a werewolf. Though he'd already sort of guessed at that one in his head, so that surely wasn't what took the cake here.

All of the research he'd seen over the night – both in the books and what he could find on the Internet – seemed to indicate that lycanthropy was definitely the answer. Now he just needed to tell Scott…

A knock on the door to his bedroom interrupted his thoughts. Nervous and jittery, partly from being up all night and partly from the amount of Adderall he'd taken; Stiles approached the door. "Who's there?"

"Me, you idiot," Scott's voice answered, "We going to school today?"

"Get in here!" Stiles threw open the door and pulled Scott bodily into the bedroom before slamming the door shut behind them. "I've been up all night researching. I have to tell you something."

"How much Adderall have you had?" Scott teased.

Stiles shrugged. "A lot. Doesn't matter."

"So, is this about the body? Do they know who did it? Because really, I'd rather not get any more—"

But Stiles cut him off. "No. No. Remember that joke I made? Werewolf joke? Not a joke. I was doing this reading – and I went to talk to the creepy librarian – and I was reading and…"

"Seriously?" Scott did not look impressed. "I have to pick up Allison in an hour, and you are wasting my time with this?"

"Did you see yourself on the field today?"

"I made a good shot," Scott countered.

Stiles shook his head. "No, Scott, you made an incredible shot. And you made a flip in the air. And the speed, the reflexes, your hearing, your sense of smell? And have you noticed that you don't use your inhaler any more because I have!"

"I can't think about this right now," Scott snapped, "We can talk about this tomorrow."

"No, we can't!" Stiles protested, "There's a full moon tonight!"

"What are you trying to do?" Scott shouted, "I'm first line! An amazing girl who is completely out of my league wants to go out with me! Everything is somehow perfect, why are you trying to ruin it?"

"I'm trying to help!" Stiles yelled back. There was a second of silence before Stiles continued, much more calmly. "You're cursed, Scott. It's not just that the moon will make you physically change, it's going to give you this bloodlust and aggression."

"Bloodlust?" Scott could not have sounded more sceptical if he tried.

"Your urge to kill," Stiles explained.

Scott scowled. "I'm already feeling an urge to kill somebody in particular."

"There's more," Stiles added, reaching for a book. Flipping to a page that had been bookmarked with a blue sticky note, Stiles read aloud. "'The Change can be caused by anger or anything that raises the pulse in the subject.' And can you think of anyone who raises your pulse like Allison? You are not going on this date! Call her right now!"

When Scott didn't move, Stiles darted for his friend's backpack – lying abandoned on his bed. "What are you doing?" Scott groaned.

"I'm cancelling your date."

"No," Scott argued, "Give me the phone." Stiles didn't stop – not until Scott grabbed him, shouting, "Give it to me." In an instant, he had Stiles pressed against the wall with one hand, his other curled into a fist.

They stayed like that for at least a minute before Scott dropped Stiles and rounded on his desk chair. The chair flipped across the floor, landing on its side. Both did their best to avoid eye contact until finally, Scott breathed, "I'm sorry." Another awkward silence followed and Scott stammered, "I… I have to go get ready. I'm sorry."

He snatched his bag off the bed and headed quickly out the door. Stiles sighed heavily and picked up his desk chair, setting it back in front of his desk. Looking at it, he cocked his head to the side. Scott had left claw marks in it.

* * *

McCall House

Scott had showered as quickly as he could once he got home. Wrapped in his towel, he rushed into his bedroom to change clothes.

His mom stopped him. "Scott, is this a party or a date?" She was always straight to the point.

He shrugged. "I guess both?"

"What's her name?" she grinned.

"Allison," Scott answered, feeling his cheeks burn red.

His mom's nose scrunched up, the way it did every time she thought her son was being adorable. She'd been making that face for as long as he could remember. She jingled the car keys in her hand and held them out to Scott.

"Seriously?" He was elated. "Thank you!"

"Do we need to have a talk?"

Scott shook his head. "I'm not having a safe sex talk with you."

"I meant about keeping the tank full when you bring it back," his mom groaned, "Don't make me regret giving you those keys. But while we're on the subject, I am not – absolutely not – ending up on a reality TV show with a pregnant sixteen year old!"

* * *

Martin House

Lydia's house was huge and beautiful – but Scott had seen it before. He was mostly taken with how beautiful Allison was. She was only wearing jeans and a blouse with a cardigan over it, but she could have worn a trash bag for all Scott cared. They made their way through the crowd of dancing teens. On a typical Friday, most of these people would have been at the Bronze – Cordelia and Harmony were clearly gossiping about boys in one corner of the living room. Stiles, who had only been invited because he was technically on the lacrosse team – the same reason Scott had been invited – was dancing awkwardly near the door to Lydia's patio. Scott looked away, and Allison grabbed his hand. "Let's go dance by the pool?" she offered.

He followed her through the door outside – catching sight of Lydia and Jackson making out against one of the walls before he was thoroughly entranced by Allison's movements, perfectly in time with the music that pumped through speakers across the whole house.

But then something else caught Scott's attention. He couldn't see it, only feel it. He looked around, confused, alarmed. And then he caught sight of him, standing by the back gate to Lydia's yard. Just watching.

Derek Hale.

"You okay?" Allison asked.

"What?" Scott's attention was back on her, "Yeah, fine." When he looked back to the gate, no one was there. He thought, for a moment, he saw a shadow move on the roof. Whatever it was, it wasn't important. What mattered now was Allison.

They danced, moving together like one person. Allison had to guide his body a little bit to keep with the rhythm of the music, but it didn't seem to matter to her and it certainly didn't matter to Scott. Their bodies drew closer together, and Scott's heart beat faster.

And then, it seemed to be beating too fast. His body began to ache – his mouth, his fingers, his even his toes. Pain coursed through him.

"Scott, are you okay?"

"I… I gotta…" Scott stammered. He couldn't think of an excuse, and his vision was getting blurry. He stumbled back, tripping up the steps back into Lydia's house. He could hear Allison behind him, concerned. Stiles' voice reached him, asking if he was okay. He couldn't answer, he could barely think. He somehow reached the car, got inside, and – fumbling with the keys – started the engine. All he could think to do was get away from everyone, as quickly as possible.

And so he drove away.

Allison watched as Scott veered out of Lydia's driveway and careened down the road. She had been worried – now she was pissed. And stranded. Mostly stranded.

"Allison, right?" a voice said from behind her.

She turned and saw a tall, handsome man in a leather jacket smiling at her. "Yeah?"

"I'm Derek. Friend of Scott's. I'm gonna take you back to your house. Whenever you're ready to go."

"Now's good," Allison said. She could have stayed, but she wasn't really in much of a mood to party any more.

* * *

McCall House

Scott wasn't even sure how he'd made it home and into the shower, but he had. Hopefully, whatever was happening would pass soon.

Not whatever. Stiles had been right. This was the Change. The moon, the adrenaline, the dancing. His pulse. He was changing into a wolf. But at least he was doing it in the privacy of his own shower.

And then someone started knocking on his bedroom door. The adjoining door to the shower was still open, so Scott could hear it clearly enough. "Scott?" Stiles' voice shouted through the closed door.

Scott turned his head. "Go away, Stiles!" In the mirror across from the shower, he caught sight of his mouth. He had fangs, sharp teeth extending from his upper and lower rows of teeth. His eyes were glowing yellow. He could not let Stiles see him like this.

He ran to the door and shoved it just as Stiles began to turn the knob to open it. "Let me in, Scott, I can help!"

"No," Scott growled, "Just go find Allison!"

"She's fine," Stiles insisted, "She got a ride from the party. Let me help you."

"Derek," Scott gasped as another jet of searing pain ripped through him, "I think Derek Hale is a werewolf. I think he's the one who bit me. He killed the girl in the woods!"

Stiles was silent for a second. Then he blurted out, "Derek Hale is the one who gave Allison a ride home."

Scott had crossed the room and leapt out the window before Stiles could even open the door. Scott hit the ground outside, splashing into some mud. Hs fingers had extended into claws, and he could feel his ears growing pointed. He couldn't control it – he stared up at the moon and he howled.

* * *

Argent House

Stiles slammed on the brakes of his Jeep as soon as he pulled into the Argent driveway, and leapt from the vehicle. He hurled himself up the steps to the front door and frantically rang the doorbell.

When the door opened, a stern looking woman with short red hair stood in the opening and stared at him. "Can I help you?"

"Mrs. Argent? Oh, you have no idea who I am, huh? I'm a friend of Allison's," Stiles babbled, "This is going to sound crazy but, at the party, and—"

"Allison, it's for you!" the woman shouted up the stairs behind her. Allison appeared at the top of the stairs, staring down at Stiles.

"Can I help you?" she asked. Clearly, she was not in any sort of mood to see any of Scott's friends.

* * *

Sunnydale Nature Preserve

Scott had lost Allison's scent. It was infuriating, he'd followed it this far into the woods and now it had stopped at this random tree. At a loss, he stared up.

There, dangling from a branch, was Allison's cardigan. "Where is she?" he growled.

"Safe from you," Derek's voice answered.

Scott spun on his heel. Derek was only feet away from him. Scott leapt into the air – and was a met with a firm shove from his opponent. Scott slammed backwards into the tree from the force of it. Derek was on him in a second, pinning him to the bark.

"Quiet," he hissed, his eyes darting to the sides. A rustle of leaves caught the ears of both werewolves. "Too late, let's go. Run!"

Both of them took off at their top speed. A gunshot sounded and a flash of light erupted in front of Scott, blinding him only for a moment. The moment was long enough – an arrow pierced through his arm, pinning him to a tree. He howled in pain.

"Finish him," the voice of one of his assailants ordered.

Scott could barely make out what followed, his vision still affected by the light. Two of the three attackers were thrown aside, knocked unconscious. The third – the only one whose face Scott could clearly make out – remained calm, but vigilantly watched all around him. While his attention was diverted from Scott, Derek appeared and snapped the arrow off and pulled Scott deeper into the woods with him.

Minutes later, Scott collapsed, reverted to his human form. "Did we lose them?" he gasped.

"I think so," Derek nodded, "Rest. You'll heal quickly."

"Who were they?" Scott asked.

"Hunters," Derek explained, "They've been after our kind for centuries."

"Our kind?" Scott spat, "You mean your kind. You did this to me!"

Derek rolled his eyes and jutted out his jaw, obviously irritated. "The bite is a gift, you've got speed and senses beyond that of any human. You can heal faster, look at your arm!"

Indeed, the wound was mending itself before Scott's eyes, but it didn't seem to ease his rage. "A gift? I don't want it!"

"You'll need to control it," Derek continued, "And that's where I can help you. So from now on, we're brothers. Got it?"

As much as he hated it, he couldn't really argue now. Scott nodded.

* * *

Sunnydale High: Outside (Morning)

The weekend had passed peacefully enough. Derek had urged Scott to stay at his house to control the change, while the moon was at it's fullest. Scott refused, but – at least from what he'd told Stiles – the Change hadn't been that unbearable. According to the books, the first Change was usually easier than the second. The wolf, apparently, needed more time to gather its strength. That did anything but help Scott handle his stress.

Stiles smiled reassuringly at Scott. "You'll be okay," he said.

Scott shook his head. "The worst part is, the part I'm most worried about is…"

"If you finish that sentence with 'Allison' I'm going to punch you in the head," Stiles warned.

"I bet she hates me!" Scott moaned.

"I did what damage control I could," Stiles told his friend, "But, yeah, you're going to need a stellar apology. The rest of it… you're not alone. Hell, I'll tie you up and feed you mice on full moons if I have to. I had a boa once, I could do it."

Scott chuckled despite himself. "Right."

"This morning though, we should probably go to the library," Stiles said hesitantly, "I think you need to talk to Buffy."

"I really don't want to," Scott resisted.

Stiles shook his head. "Maybe not usually, but this morning you definitely do want to talk to her. Trust me."

* * *

Sunnydale High: Outside (Afternoon)

Scott sat patiently on the bench outside the school. Allison had been avoiding him all day. Fair, since he hadn't talked to her all weekend. When she finally did stride out of the school building and saw him, her demeanor became infuriated. "What happened?" she snapped, "You just left me at the party."

"I know," Scott said, guilt soaking through his every word, "I'm really so sorry. You're going to have to trust I had a really good reason."

"Did you get sick?" Allison asked.

Scott shrugged. "Kind of? I definitely had an attack of something…"

"Am I getting an explanation or not? Allison demanded.

"Can you find it in your heart just to trust me on this one?" Scott asked.

Allison scowled for a minute, then stared him hard in the eye. "Am I going to regret this?"

"Probably," Scott admitted. She giggled. He pressed his luck a little farther. "So that's a yes on the second chance?"

"Definitely yes," she nodded. A car horn beeped in the parking lot, and she turned to look. "Oh, that's my dad. I have to run." She took off towards a red minivan parked at the edge of the driveway, and Scott turned to leave. A familiar scent caught him, though, and he turned back.

And watched Allison climb into a car with the third hunter from his harrowing Friday night battle. Allison's father had tried to kill him.

And that was _before_ he knew they were dating.


	4. Episode 4: Second Chance at First Line

**Second Chance at First Line**

Author's Note: This episode also includes the events of the _Buffy the Vampire Slayer_ episode "Witch". As always, feedback would be great!

* * *

Sunnydale High: Library

Giles stared up from his books in horror. "It's monstrous," he breathed.

"They're the school colors, Giles. I didn't pick them," Buffy protested, spinning a bit in her skirt and waving one of the bright yellow and red pompoms she held at him.

"You have a sacred birthright," Giles started in on the lecture, "You have been Chosen to slay vampires, not wave pompoms at people! As your Watcher, I forbid it."

Buffy just quirked an eyebrow. "Did you have a plan to stop me?"

"I was hoping to appeal to your common sense," Giles muttered, "If such a creature exists."

"Look," Buffy sighed, "I'm still going to have time to fight evil. I've just got to do something normal – something safe. I've been here less than a month and already lost two friends. I need this."

Giles scowled, and opted to change the subject. "Any thoughts on how to handle Scott's situation?"

Buffy shook her head. "Derek doesn't want me handling 'pack business' – his words, not mine. And I don't know enough about werewolves to argue. Not like Scott's really my biggest fan around here anyways. But I can keep an eye on him while he's playing lacrosse if I'm a cheerleader!" She grinned – it hadn't been her original tactic to gain his approval, but maybe it would work. "Anyways, I gotta run. Try outs start soon!"

* * *

Sunnydale High: Boys Locker Room

Scott leaned back hopelessly on the lockers. Things had been going so good, and now everything was so bad. Well, not quite everything. Allison, at least, was giving him a second chance. But not blowing it again seemed like it would be nearly impossible. And then there was the minor detail of her father being a hunter. He'd seen him in the woods over the weekend and now he'd seen him picking up Allison mere minutes ago.

"Uh, did you apologize to Allison?" Stiles' voice penetrated Scott's thoughts.

"Yeah," Scott said simply.

"Is she giving you a second chance?"

"Yeah."

"Yeah!" Stiles nearly shouted in his excitement. It briefly occurred to Scott that maybe getting Stiles a date should be somewhere on his priority list, but the thought was gone again before it could gain too much footing. "Alright! Everything's good!"

"No," Scott snorted, "Everything is not good."

"No?" Stiles frowned, confused and concerned.

"Remember when I told you about the hunters?" Scott went on, "Allison's dad is one. He shot me. With a crossbow. Oh my God…" It was like the world was closing in on him all of a sudden.

"Hey snap out of it," Stiles interjected, "He didn't recognize you. And Allison wasn't hunting! You're fine, you're—"

Coach Finstock's whistle stopped any further conversation.

"Just focus on lacrosse for now," Stiles finished, "That's all you gotta do!"

* * *

Sunnydale High Gymnasium

"So Giles didn't approve?" Willow inquired as she and Xander escorted Buffy into the gymnasium for cheerleader tryouts.

"No," Buffy frowned, "I haven't even seen a vampire in like a week. I don't get what the big deal is. I'd say he needs a girlfriend, but he's so old."

"Well, we support you in this!" Willow forced a grin.

Xander's support was much more apparently genuine – though he expressed it all while staring at a girl practicing doing splits. "School spirit is a great thing, people underestimate it. Young women go out there, give it their all, and do all these… stretchy…. Where was I?"

"You were pretending that seeing scantily clad women was spiritual," Willow chided.

"Pretending?" Xander scoffed. Knocked out of his daydreams, however, he remembered something. "Got you something for luck, Buffy!" He extracted a bracelet from his pocket, and held it out to her.

"What is that?" Buffy and Willow both asked, simultaneously though their tones were entirely different. Buffy accepted the gift and examined it. "This is so sweet of you, Xander," she decided, reading the inscription, "Yours always."

"That was on there when I got it," Xander jumped in, "They all had that on them. True story."

"Who does that Amber think she is?" Cordelia's voice cut in. She was clad in her own cheerleader outfit, and was glaring daggers at the girl doing splits and raging to anyone who would listen. "This isn't the Laker Girls!"

"I heard she turned them down," Willow added, "We'll be over on the bleachers Buffy. Good luck!"

One of the senior cheerleaders stood up at a table at one end of the room and announced – reading from a list, "Amber Grove, you're up. If you're not Amber Grove, get off the floor."

Buffy and Cordelia stepped back, joining another girl – Amy Madison –who was in a few classes with Buffy. She, too, was dressed in a cheerleader uniform.

"Hi Amy," Buffy said cordially as the three of them watched Amber's routine, "I didn't know you were trying out."

"You lost a lot of weight," Cordelia mentioned with her usual tact.

Amy nodded. "I had to." After a momentary awkward pause, Amy continued. "I hear Amber trained with Benson. He's the best coach money can buy."

"They have coaches?" Buffy was worried now.

Amy nodded seriously. "You don't have one? I train with my mom three hours every night and three hours every morning."

Buffy snorted. "That amount of quality time with my mom would lead to some quality matricide."

"No," Amy shook her head, "My mom's the greatest."

"Amber's not that good," Cordelia shrugged, turning to look at the rest of her competition.

And suddenly, Amber began to smoke. "That girl is on fire!" Willow's voice shouted from the bleachers.

"Willow is always using such hyperbole," Cordelia rolled her eyes turning back to look.

"Not this time," Buffy was already off at a run as flames burst from Amber's arms. The potential cheerleader shrieked, dropping her pompoms. Buffy vaulted into the air, snatching a banner hanging from the ceiling that read "FIGHTING SUNNYDALE RAZORBACKS". She, and the banner, came crashing down on Amber, knocking her to the ground and smothering the flames.

"You're okay," Buffy panted, "You're gonna be okay."

* * *

Sunnydale High: Lacrosse Field

Practice was going exceptionally well for Jackson, who was defending against a line of his teammates, but was not faring as well for Scott. After Jackson slammed Scott into the ground and quipped, "You sure you still want to be first line, McCall?" The adrenaline was definitely pumping now. Scott could feel it. Jackson's attitude was all the incentive he needed.

Before he could even get to his feet, Coach Finstock was towering over him. "Hey, McCall," he snapped, "My grandmother can run faster than that. She's dead. You think you can run faster than the rotting corpse of my grandmother?"

"Yes, Coach," Scott growled, rising to his feet. Even as the words escaped his mouth, he could feel fangs jutting from his teeth. He was changing. On the field.

"Good," Coach Finstock stalked away, "Then do it again. McCall's gonna do it again!"

This time, Scott charged for the goal – and the wolf took over. He slammed into Jackson, knocking him to the ground with a painful thud. As more lupine features erupted, he dropped to the ground himself.

* * *

Stiles rushed to Scott's side – even though the rest of the team was crowded around Jackson.

"Buddy?" Stiles called out tentatively.

"It's happening," Scott growled, "I can't control it." And just like that, Scott was racing back towards the locker room. Stiles followed in hot pursuit. He was so focused on catching up with his friend, he didn't even notice Derek Hale watching them from the edge of the field.

* * *

Sunnydale High: Men's Locker Room

Stiles rounded the corner around one of the rows of lockers. He could hear heavy breathing – he was sure it was where Scott had gone.

And he was not wrong. As soon as he'd made it around the turn, Scott lunged at him, growling. Stiles stumbled back and darted back around the corner as fast as he could. Following Scott – it seemed – had not been his best idea ever. He broke into a run towards the door. He could hear Scott leap onto the lockers above him. He was hunting, and Stiles was his prey.

And then Stiles' eyes fell on the fire extinguisher. He made a grab for it, just as Scott descended to the floor. He leapt into the air, but not fast enough. Stiles unleashed the full fury of the fire extinguisher's spray.

When the spray cleared, Scott – fully human – lay on the floor. He was blinking, staring around the room. "Stiles…" he gasped, "Stiles, what happened?"

"You tried to kill me," Stiles answered. He tried not to sound upset, but the attempt was a miserable failure. "It's like I told you, anything that raises your blood pressure – like anger? It makes the Change happen."

"Well, that's lacrosse," Scott sighed, "It's a violent game."

Stiles nodded. "A violent game I think you have to give up until you've got a handle on this."

* * *

Summers Home

The kitchen had been slowly filling with wooden crates for days. Buffy's mom had made quick progress in opening her gallery – now she had to fill it with all manner of artwork from various civilizations. Buffy leaned casually against one crate, labelled "Buckland Auction House, San Francisco".

"Mom?" she called out. She knew better than to try searching through the maze of boxes.

"Oh, hi Buffy!" her mom's voice called out. She popped her head up from behind a box that was not all that far away. "How was school?"

"A reverent joy," Buffy smirked, "What came in today?"

"Oh!" her mom perked up, "This is for the tribal art display!" She was trying, without much success, to pry the lid off one of the boxes.

Buffy was entirely disinterested in the items, making her way over to the table which was mercifully clear of everything except a statue and a box of donuts. She slid into one of the chairs. "We had tryouts today."

"How'd you do?" her mom grunted, still having no luck with the crate she was working on.

"I didn't get to try out yet," Buffy explained, "There was an accident. Fierce competition though."

"Oh, you'll do fine. Keep on plugging. Just have to get back on the horse," her mom rambled.

"Mom?" Buffy interrupted, "What was I trying out for?"

Her mom finally stopped prying on the crate, sighing and turning to her daughter. "Some activity? I'm so sorry, honey."

"That's okay," Buffy smiled, "Your platitudes are great for all occasions."

"I'm just so distracted," she sighed, "I have so much inventory to go through. This is my gallery's first major show. You know, it might not physically kill you to lend me a hand…" As she trailed off, she headed for another crate, which she hoped would be easier to open.

Buffy stood and walked over to the abandoned crate. Making sure her mom was preoccupied – which should have been a given – she lifted the lid off with one hand. Superpowers could come in handy in every day life, it turned out. "It was cheerleading."

"Good!" her mom exclaimed, "I'm so glad you're taking that up again. It'll keep you out of trouble…"

"I'm not in trouble, mom."

"I know. Not yet. But you were a cheerleader, and you dropped out right before the trouble started before. I'm just so glad you're going back." She looked over at her daughter for a moment and beamed, before turning back to the crate she was looking into. She cast an askance look at Buffy and slammed it shut again.

"What's in that?" Buffy wondered.

"Oh, nothing," her mom shrugged, "Just a little fertility statue. You don't need to see it."

"So, this girl Amy trains with her mom three hours a day," Buffy mentioned. It was worth a shot.

"Sounds like a mom with not much to do." Buffy's mom, who did not match that description, finished this declaration and headed out of the room, presumably to take care of crates in another room of the house.

Curious, Buffy stepped over to the crate her mom had been so eager to keep her from seeing inside. She cracked the lid open and peered in. "Oh my God," Buffy gasped, slamming the lid shut. _"Mom! We have to get this crate to the gallery before Dawn gets home and sneaks a look in! We can't afford that kind of therapy for her!"_

* * *

McCall Home

Scott collapsed wordlessly in bed once he arrived home. It only took a few minutes for his mom to come in to find him. "I'm working the late shift again tonight," he announced, almost apologetically even though that was pretty typical for the life of a nurse. "But I did take Saturday off to see your game."

"You can't," Scott groaned.

"I can and I will," she insisted, striding over to his bed. "Hey, what's wrong with your eyes?"

Scott sat bolt upright. Was he changing now and he didn't even know it?

"You look like you haven't slept in days," his mom went on.

"Oh," Scott breathed a sigh of relief, "Yeah, it was just a long day. Lot on my mind."

"That's all?" she asked, "You're not on drugs or anything?"

"Right now?"

"Wait, hold on. Right now?" her demeanor shifted instantly into a much more serious one. "Have you ever taken drugs?"

"Have you?" Scott asked. The ploy worked. Her mouth worked for a few seconds before she clearly decided this was not a conversation she wanted to have at the present time. She quickly left the room.

Not even a minute later, Scott's laptop alerted him that he had an incoming call on Skype. No surprise, it was Stiles. He was tooling around with a plastic gun that lit up and beeped when you pulled the trigger. Stiles had planned to follow up practice with some recon to find out how much damage Scott had done.

Scott dragged himself over to his desk and sat down. "What did you guys find out?"

"Jackson has a separated shoulder," Stiles announced.

"Because of me?" Scott was hating himself enough for trying to kill Stiles – now he'd disabled the team's best player.

"Because he's a tool," Stiles corrected.

"Is he gonna play?"

Stiles shrugged. "They haven't said yet. My guess is no, which means they're counting on you if we're gonna win."

"Oh, no pressure," Scott said, exasperated.

Stiles wasn't paying much attention to Scott. He was peering at his screen, curiously. "Is that—" he started to ask, but the computer stopped him. It had chosen the perfect moment to buffer.

Scott turned in his chair – just in time to find himself face to face with Derek Hale. Derek lifted Scott out of the chair and slammed him into the wall. "You shifted in front of them!" he snarled, "You can never let anyone see, never let anyone find out about us!"

"No one saw anything!" Scott protested, struggling against Derek's powerful grip.

"And they won't," Derek hissed, leaning into Scott, "Because if you even try to play lacrosse again, I'm going to kill you myself." Derek released his captive.

"I have a game on Saturday!" Scott shouted, turning around. But the room was empty. There was no sign of how Derek had left – or how he'd come in either. It was time to stop leaving windows open in the McCall house though, that much was clear.

* * *

Sunnydale High: Library

The bench that Xander and his friends had once met at before school was all but abandoned these days. Now, they typically gathered in the library. Especially on days like the day after a cheerleader threatened to explode all over the gym.

"I've been slaying vampires for a little over a year now," Buffy was telling Giles, "I've seen a lot of cringeworthy stuff, but not this. No flaming hands. This isn't a vampire problem, is it?"

"I'd imagine not," Giles nodded.

"But it is funky? Definitely not the norm?" Buffy pressed on.

Giles nodded fervently. "Oh, indeed. Spontaneous human combustion is a rare phenomenon, documented for centuries in science. There are theories, of course, but no actual explanation. Typically all that's left is a pile of ash."

"That's what would have been left of Amber if it hadn't been for Buffy," Willow said.

"So we have no idea what caused this?" Xander asked, "How comforting."

"Yes," Giles agreed – though he seemed to be brimming with excitement. "The thrill of living atop a Hellmouth! There could be a veritable cornucopia of fiends, devils, and monstrosities to engage!" He paused, noticing the blank stares each of the kids was giving him. "So I'm choosing to look at the glass as half full, pardon me."

"Well, do you Watchers have anything to add about spontaneous combustion?" Buffy inquired, "Is there some kind of common denominator?"

"In many cases," Giles explained, "The victim is terribly upset or angry."

Xander put forth his own theory. "Maybe Amber has a super power! Maybe she's like the Human Torch, only it hurts when she lights herself on fire?"

To his surprise, everyone nodded at the theory. "Then we need to find out if Amber's had any colorful episodes before," Buffy decided.

"I can hack the school records," Willow offered.

Giles shook his head. "We simply cannot keep bringing Danny in to help us with our research. Far too many students already know about Buffy…"

"It's a lot easier to hack the school than the town," Willow assured him, "I can do it without his help."

"I can ask around about her," Xander added, "Get the skinny."

"No," Buffy shook her head, "You guys do not need to get involved in all of this."

"We're a team, come on!" Xander protested.

"Right," Willow agreed, "You're the Slayer. We're like the Slayerettes!"

Buffy kept protesting, but she looked much less like she meant it. "I don't want you guys to be in any danger."

"I laugh in the face of danger!" Xander boasted, "And then I hide until it goes away."

Finally, Buffy relented. "Well, I'm psyched for the help. What happens if we find out Amber didn't cause this?"

"Then we'll have to find out what did and deal with it accordingly," Giles instructed. Buffy looked concerned.

"We've fought vampires," Xander pointed out, "Everything else should be easy! A walk in the park!"

As if cued by his self assurance, two arguing voices interrupted as Scott and Stiles threw open the swinging doors to the library. "Well, I don't want you to try to kill me or anyone else," Stiles was exclaiming, "But most importantly, I don't want you to try to kill me. Again!"

"I can't not play," Scott retorted, "Especially if Jackson's down."

"Winning is not more important than surviving," Stiles shook his head, "You can't play until we learn how to control this thing." He turned to stare at the others gathered in the library, silently pleading with them for help.

"Stiles raises a good point," Giles said, with a weak smile.

Scott sighed. "Well, I have a couple of days to figure out how to get out of this."

"Did you try talking to the coach?" Xander suggested.

* * *

Sunnydale High: Coach Finstock's Office

Scott tentatively pushed open the door to the coach's office. "Coach?"

Coach Finstock sat behind his desk, legs up. "Scott! What's happening?"

"I… I can't play in the game Saturday," Scott stammered.

Coach Finstock stared at him. "You mean, you can't wait to play the game Saturday."

"No," Scott shook his head, "I mean, I can not play in the game Saturday."

The coach stared at him for a minute. "Is it a girl?" he asked with a knowing nod and smile.

"No…" Scott furrowed his brow.

"Is it a guy?" Coach Finstock pressed on.

"No…"

"Danny's gay you know," the coach said encouragingly, "Don't you think Danny's a good looking guy?"

"Sure?" Scott said slowly, "But… uh… I'm not gay."

"Oh, so it's drugs?" Coach Finstock went on. He was not giving up. "I had a cousin who was addicted to meth. You should have seen his teeth! Terrible. Not worth it."

"What happened?" Scott asked, his face fully contorting in confusion now.

"Oh, he got veneers, obviously!" Coach Finstock rose to his feet and leaned across his desk towards Scott. "Listen, you are going to play on Saturday. You don't want to spend the whole season on the bench, do you?"

"You mean, I won't be on first line anymore if I don't play?" Scott gasped. The coach just nodded. "Seriously?" Still nodded. And Scott knew Coach Finstock never joked about lacrosse.

* * *

Sunnydale High: Hallways

Allison hummed to herself a little bit as she turned the combination for her locker. She was enjoying herself in this new town. Lydia was a marvellous friend, and she was definitely taking the sting out of being the "new kid". Well, newest of the new kids.

That and there was Scott. They hadn't really had a chance to talk since she decided to give him a second chance – more her fault than Scott's. She was trying to settle into the new house, unpack her things, and get used to the new town. Seemed like her family was planning to stay for a while. But she had a good feeling about him, and every time they passed in the halls she got butterflies in her stomach.

The combination lock clicked in her hand, and she pulled open her locker. To her surprise, but delight, her cardigan was hanging on one of the hooks inside. She could not remember for the life of her where she had left it on the night of Lydia's party. She smiled. Lydia must have found it and brought it to school for her.

* * *

Sunnydale High: Gymnasium

The tryouts continued after school as though nothing had happened the previous day. The senior cheerleaders announced the group routine tryouts, and Amy, Buffy, and Cordelia were grouped together with two girls named Morgan and Lishanne. Buffy had never met them, but they were obviously Cordettes.

They had already been taught the routine, in segments. Now they had to piece it together.

"I hate that my hands get sweaty when I'm nervous," Amy confided.

"You'll be fine," Buffy patted her on the shoulder.

And then they were off. Buffy was rusty, but she found her footing and – it was true – her Slayer powers gave her better agility than most. She was taking full advantage of that fact. The whole group seemed to be doing well. They shouted out the cheer, they did their moves.

Eventually, they reached the finale. Each girl cartwheeled and slid to her knees in turn. Morgan. Lishanne. Buffy. Cordelia. Then Amy – her hand slipped in the cartwheel and she careened to one side, crashing into Cordelia.

"That wasn't me," Cordelia cried, shoving Amy off of her, "You all saw that wasn't me, right?"

* * *

Sunnydale High: Hallways

Buffy changed in the locker room and made her way out into the hallway. She spotted Amy – still in her cheerleading outfit – staring at the trophy case. "Are you okay?"

"That's my mom," Amy said, pointing at the case. A shelf within it contained a trophy, and a photo with a placard that read: "1977 – TRI-COUNTY BEST."

"Catherine Madison," Buffy read off the trophy, "Get down with your bad self!"

"They called her Catherine the Great," Amy explained, "She made them tri-county champions. No one's ever done that for this school, before or since. She and my dad were Homecoming King and Queen. Got married right after graduation."

"How romantic," Buffy smiled.

Amy continued, "He was a big loser, never made any money. Took off with some trailer trash bimbo when I was twelve."

"Less romantic," Buffy interjected, her smile fading. "My parents split up too."

Amy may as well have not heard her at all. "He left my mom with nothing She put herself through cosmetology school, bought me everything I ever needed. And never gained a single pound."

"She sounds great," Buffy stepped in, "But you don't have to be Catherine the Second, you know? As far as the cheerleading thing goes…"

"She was the best!" Amy exclaimed, "I can't get my body to move like hers. I choked in there so badly." She sighed. "I have to get changed." Frowning, she trudged into the girls' locker room.

As she departed, Willow approached. "Is Amy okay?" she asked.

"Oh, she's just wigging out about her mom," Buffy explained, "Big cheer queen way back when."

"Oh, I get that. Her mom is kinda…" Willow trailed off, not sure how to best explain it.

"Nazi-like?"

"Heil," Willow nodded, "If she gains an ounce, she padlocks the fridge and won't eat anything but broth. Amy and I used to be close – when her mom would go on a broth kick, she'd come to my house and we'd eat brownies. But there's a bitterness there."

"So mommy dearest is really Mommy Dearest," Buffy observed, "What'd you find on Amber?"

"Nothing exciting," Willow shrugged, "Average student. Got detention once for smoking. But with a cigarette, not with… you know… her limbs. Seems very normal to me."

"I guess we wait and see what happens," Buffy echoed Willow's shrug, "Maybe it'll turn out to be a one time, freak thing."

* * *

Sunnydale High: Outside

Xander and Willow strode across the quad. He'd sought her out, alone, to ask a very important question. Two days had passed now sine Xander had given his gift to Buffy. "She was wearing the bracelet, right?" Willow just nodded – exasperated. "Great! Because that means we're like practically dating, right?"

"Yes, Xander," Willow quipped, "Except without kissing, hugging, or her knowing about it."

"So I should ask her out?" Xander wondered.

Willow shrugged. "Won't know anything until you do."

"This is why I love you, Will," Xander beamed, "You're like my guy friend who knows about girl stuff."

"Oh, good, I'm a guy," Willow intoned coldly as they strolled past Cordelia, Harmony, and Lishanne.

"I don't know how I lost a headband at tryouts last night, but I can't find it anywhere," she was saying – and then, "Oh my God, they're posting it!" She and her friends immediately headed for the bulletin board where a crowd was gathering. Spotting Buffy and Amy on the periphery of the crowd, Xander and Willow headed towards them.

"I'm scared to look," Amy told them when they reached them.

Buffy shrugged. "I'm doing the moral support thing. We can look together, when the crowd clears."

"I'll look!" Xander volunteered.

Lishanne's voice screeched, "Yes!" above the din of the crowd. Another girl ran past them, sobbing hysterically.

"Are you sure you want to do that, Xander?" Buffy asked, biting her bottom lip.

"Spot me, I'm going in!" Xander dove into the crowd without another word. He found himself pushing past girls, neck and neck with Cordelia. Courtesy and fear mingling, he allowed her to go ahead of him.

A few minutes later, Cordelia and Xander emerged from the crowd. They both strode towards Amy.

"You're lucky," Cordelia cooed.

"I made it?" Amy asked, breathless.

Cordelia sneered, "I made it. Despite your best efforts."

Cordelia stalked away, leaving Xander there rotating one of his arms. "Those girls… they play rough, I don't like it," he mused, "We should start testing for steroids. Anyways. You both made it. Buffy, you're first alternate and Amy, you are third alternate. Congratulations!"

Both Amy and Buffy's faces fell in disappointment. Xander hardly noticed, even though Amy's shoulders slumped and she trudged away from the group.

"We should celebrate tonight, Buffy," he continued, "There's a drive-through in town, they show romantic comedies…"

"Xander," Willow cut him off, "Alternates didn't make the team. They fill in if something happens to the ones who did."

"I have to go," Buffy said, moving to follow after Amy.

Xander's smile faltered as she left and he slumped against the wall. "Hail Xander, King of the Cretins," he quipped, "May all lesser cretins bow before me."

* * *

Sunnydale High: Hallways

Buffy caught up to Amy, who was trying desperately to hold in her tears until she could make it into the girls bathroom. "At least it's over," Buffy said in her most comforting tone of voice, "How about, tonight, we have a brownie pig-out at my house. Immediately after school, okay?"

Amy rounded on Buffy. "What more can I do? How many more hours a day do I need to practice? This would never have happened to my mom. Never!" At this, Amy took off at a run for the bathroom.

Helpless, Buffy just watched her go.

* * *

Scott pushed his locker door shut and turned to head towards class when a hand grabbed him and pulled. "I need your ears," Stiles' voice hissed.

Scott rolled his eyes and turned to his friend. "What do you need?"

Stiles poked his head around the nearby corner. "My dad is here, talking to Flutie," he explained quietly, "What are they saying?"

Obediently, Scott stuck his head around the corner and tried to focus on the sounds of the two adults. To his amazement, it worked – he could hear exactly what they were saying as clearly as though it was being said next to him.

"With the possibility of such a brutal killer on the loose, we're instituting a curfew," Sheriff Stilinski was explaining, "Beginning tomorrow night. But we'll need you to announce it today, of course."

Scott relayed this information to Stiles, who just shook his head. "My dad's looking for a killer, when he should be looking for a monster," he clicked his tongue, "And that monster gets to hang out and do whatever he wants!"

"We can't tell your dad the truth about Derek," Scott said warningly.

Stiles frowned. "We have to do something."

"Oh, like what?" Scott asked, his voice dripping sarcasm.

"Find the other half of the body?" Stiles suggested.

"Are you kidding?" Scott exclaimed.

Stiles turned and started rushing down the hall. "Gotta get to class, talk to you later!"

Scott sighed heavily and turned to head towards his own class. He always dreaded math. Before he'd even taken a step, however, he was interrupted once more – by Allison. At least this surprise was pleasant.

"You busy?" she asked, bouncing towards him.

"Never too busy for you," Scott grinned.

She returned the smile. "I like the sound of that. Well, I have to make this fast because, y'know, class. But I am definitely coming to see you play Saturday. And we're all going out to the Bronze afterwards – you, me, Lydia, Jackson, and invite Stiles. It's going to be great!"

Scott just stared at her, slackjawed. The pressure kept mounting. He was going to massacre the entire school at this game, and he couldn't get out of it.

"Save me a seat at lunch," she added, placing a kiss on his cheek.

* * *

Sunnydale High: Math Classroom

Math was probably Scott's worst subject. And yet, here was trying to solve for x on the blackboard in front of everyone, while Lydia picked apart a separate equation next to him. And while he needed to concentrate, she didn't seem to have any problem chatting.

"Heard a rumor you're not playing tomorrow," she mentioned coldly, "Why would I have heard that?"

"I'm sort of not," Scott stammered.

Lydia shook her head, though her hand never wavered as it steadily hammered away at the algebra in front of her. "I think you sort of are. Especially since you brutally injured my boyfriend by ramming into him."

"Your boyfriend brutally injured himself by ramming into me," Scott corrected.

"Firstly, no," Lydia retorted, "Secondly, it doesn't matter. He's playing tomorrow. But he won't be at his peak, and that's why we need you. You see, I date the captain of the lacrosse team. And if the team starts out the season losing, I date the captain of the losing lacrosse team. I don't date losers."

"Losing one game won't kill anyone," Scott hissed at her through gritted teeth, "It might actually save someone."

"Fine," Lydia snapped, "Don't play. We'll probably win anyways, and go out to the Bronze like we'd planned, and I'll introduce Allison to all the hot players on the lacrosse team. You know, Isaac has that perfect smile. And Greenburg… well, he's no prize on the field but he does have those big, muscular arms, what girl could resist… And Scott McCall will stay home boring and completely resistible."

She slammed her chalk down on the metal sill below the chalkboard and strode away, her equation solved and her message delivered. Scott just stared at his own work, trying to figure out what he'd been doing before Lydia's veiled threats.

"Scott, you're not even close to solving your problem," the teacher observed.

"Tell me about it," Scott groaned.

* * *

A Dark Attic

A woman in a hooded robe waved her hands over a cauldron. The contents were only beginning to boil. "Lord of Darkness, Lord of Night," she chanted, "Accept thy supplicant's sacrifice…"

She paused her incantation and reached out to a shelf loaded with plastic dolls – mostly Barbies with various hair colors. She selected on with brunette hair and carefully put a pink hairband around the doll.

"Reap thy vengeance," she continued, "With keen and cruel might. Send thy sudden darkness out of darkest night." With a small splash, the doll fell from her hand into the bubbling liquid, vanishing from sight. A moment later, the headband bobbed to the surface, stained a disgusting brown color. The robed woman smiled.

* * *

Summers Home

Buffy groaned. Mom had out her high school yearbooks.

"Come sit with me," she patted the seat on the couch next to her, "I'm just going down Memory Lane. This is junior year."

Buffy obediently sat and looked. Only for a second. "Mom, I've only recently come to accept that you've had sex," she stammered, "I'm not ready to know you had Farrah hair."

"Gidget hair," her mom chided, "Don't they teach you anything in history?"

"Cool, but I've got—" Buffy started.

But her mom wasn't letting her off the hook that easily. "I was thinking that since cheerleading didn't work out, maybe you could join the yearbook. I had the most fun doing that, and I could put myself in every page so I looked very popular!"

"Nice tip, mom," Buffy replied, "But even the chess club picks on the yearbook kids."

"Some of the best times I ever had were working on the yearbook," her mom countered.

Buffy rolled her eyes. "This just in, I'm not you and I'm doing my own thing."

"Your own thing got you kicked out of your last school," her mom snapped, "We had to move here to find a decent school that would even take you."

Buffy's jaw dropped open. That actually hurt. She didn't speak, she just strode out of the room. Behind her, she could hear her mom talking to herself – voice full of regret. "Great parenting form, Joyce, shaky on the dismount…"

* * *

Sunnydale High: Hallways

Scott hadn't even made it to his locker when he saw Lydia, Allison, and Greenburg standing in the hallway. He made a beeline for the trio. The game hadn't even started yet, and already Lydia was making good on her threats – only the next day! As he drew close, Lydia and Greenburg walked away.

"Lydia's introducing you to everyone?" Scott asked.

Allison smiled brightly. "She is being so unbelievably nice."

"I wonder why," Scott muttered.

"Maybe she gets how much being the new kid can suck?" Allison suggested, "I don't know what's up with you today, Scott. See you at lunch." She rolled her eyes and turned to leave.

Scott suddenly noticed something – she was holding her cardigan. The one he'd seen in the woods the weekend earlier.

"Hey… your sweater," he observed.

Allison shrugged. "Oh, yeah! I found it in my locker. I must've left it at Lydia's, she's the only one with the combination for my locker."

"Do you know you got it from Lydia?" Scott demanded, "Are you sure it wasn't Derek?"

"Your friend Derek?" Allison crinkled her forehead.

"He's not my friend," Scott said definitively, "What did you talk about when he drove you home?"

"Not a lot," Allison admitted, "I mean, I said 'nice car' and he sort of grunted. That was about it."

"Did you say anything else?" Scott pressed, "Did he?"

"I have to get to class," Allison replied, clearly finished with the conversation.

"Stay away from him!" Scott said warningly.

Allison was already moving through the other students. "I mean, I really have to go." She waved halfheartedly – and then she was gone.

"Scott!" Buffy's voice – and hand on his arm – stopped him from giving chase.

"What is it, Buffy?" Scott snapped. He was having enough trouble with people he liked right now, he didn't Miss Superhero making him more miserable with news of some impending terrible monster.

Buffy stared at him incredulously for a second before shaking it off and saying what she'd wanted to say. "I know you're worried about the game," she said, "But I'm going to be there. If you need help."

"You gonna slay me then?" Scott asked.

She sighed. "Why do all werewolves seem to think that? _Vampire_ Slayer. Vampire. Anyways, no, I figure I can just knock you out if it comes to that."

Scott gave her a wry smile. That was actually, oddly, comforting.

* * *

Xander, Stiles and Willow meandered through the hallways towards their next class. It would have been a much more enjoyable walk, if they weren't so close to Cordelia.

"Morning your highness," Xander quipped, "Beheadings at noon as usual?"

"I'm not sure she knows you're even a mammal, let alone a human," Stiles observed after a moment of Cordelia's utter silence as she bumped her way through the crowd ahead of them.

"Ah, yes. Invisible man syndrome," Xander said, donning his most scholarly tone of voice, "A blessing when it comes to Cordelia. A curse when it comes to Buffy."

"You're not invisible to Buffy," Willow said kindly.

"No, it's worse than that!" Xander exclaimed, "I'm like a rug! Part of the scenery she walks over all the time but never sees."

"Like an old pen!" Willow chimed in helpfully, "It's all chewed and you know you should throw it away but you don't! Not cause you really like it but because you're so used to having it with you…"

"Thanks for the help, Will," Xander cut her off, "That was exactly my point. I don't need it driven home like a railroad spike in the head. What I have to do… what I'm going to do is…"

"Forget about the pen," Stiles suggested, Willow nodding fervently in agreement, "Forget about Buffy."

"I am going to be a man and ask her out," Xander declared, "No more bracelets or subtle hints, or pictures of her as she sleeps – that was a joke, that last one. To relieve the tension. Because she is right there ahead of us. Into battle I go." He paused, then looked pleadingly at Willow. "Will you ask her out for me? No, no, I can do it. I'm the man. Going into battle!"

Sure enough, Buffy and Scott were having their own conversation dead ahead. Cordelia only narrowly managed to swerve around them. Willow, Stiles, and Xander stopped to talk – and Xander saw his opportunity.

"Buffy," he stammered, "How would you like to…"

"What is up with Cordelia?" Buffy asked, watching the brunette trying to open a locker, "Is that her locker?"

"I think it's Lydia's," Stiles commented. When Willow stared at him, he added, "Not that I know where her locker is…"

"I mean to say," Xander made another attempt, "Would you accompany me Friday night…"

Buffy didn't seem to hear a word. "Xander, I have to… let's pick this up another time. You don't mind right?" And without another word, Buffy was off, trailing behind Cordelia – who had abandoned the locker without managing to open it and was sliding her way down the hall.

Xander shrugged. "I imagined that being much more smooth in my head."

* * *

Sunnydale High: Parking Lot

Cordelia did not know what was going on with her eyes, but she could only barely make out the orange cones that had been set up around the parking lot. Mr. Pole, her driver's ed. teacher, was already waiting – along with the rest of the class, she guessed.

"Miss Chase," he said coldly, "Nice of you to join us. It's your turn to drive after all."

"I don't feel like driving today," Cordelia replied.

That answer did not fly. "You've already failed this course once," Mr. Pole reminded her, "If you don't drive today, I will make sure you take the bus to college."

Determined, Cordelia strode towards the car – she could make it out, blurry as it was – and slid into the driver's seat. Mr. Pole got into the passenger seat, and her classmates piled into the backseat. "Now, check your mirrors and your brake," he explained, patience returning to him, "Start the engine. Let's put the car in drive and slowly move for—"

Cordelia shifted the car and pushed gently on the accelerator pedal. To her surprise, the car drove backwards. Apparently that blurry "D" had actually been a blurry "R".

"Brakes!" Mr. Pole exclaimed, too late. The car was stopped by a lamppost.

Desperate now, Cordelia tried another gear. Neutral. And the next. That was it, drive! The car jerked forward, tires squealing as she pressed on the accelerator.

"Slow down!" Mr. Pole shouted, "Turn right! Brakes!"

Cordelia slammed on the brakes, turning the wheel. It was no use – the car skidded across the pavement. The car slid across the parking lot, onto the grass, and kept going. Finally, it came to a stop. Where wasn't Cordelia's chief concern – her vision had been progressively getting worse. She fumbled with the car door and managed to push it out.

A horn blared. A voice screamed her name.

* * *

Buffy launched herself into the air. "Cordelia!" she yelled, watching – even from her leap – as a truck bore down on the popular girl. The whole thing was like slow motion until the moment Buffy slammed into Cordelia. The two tumbled onto the grass on the other side of the street.

"What's happening to me?" Cordelia whimpered, staring up at Buffy. Buffy gasped – a white film was forming over the other girl's eyes.

"It's going to be okay, Cordelia," Buffy said in her best comforting tone, even though she wasn't sure she believed it this time.

* * *

Sunnydale High: Library

"Blinding your enemy is one of the most classic spells of witchcraft," Giles theorized, "It disables and disorients them."

"Vampires and witches," Xander mused, "No wonder housing is so affordable."

"Now, why should someone want to harm Cordelia?" Giles wondered.

"Maybe because they met her?" Willow offered.

Giles nodded. "Then why was Amber set ablaze?"

"Those two do not hang out," Stiles agreed, "Speaking of hanging out, can we like… hurry this up?"

"They're both cheerleaders," Buffy pointed out, "Maybe someone really doesn't like cheerleading. Or likes it too much…"

"Amy?" Willow jumped in.

Buffy nodded. "Amy."

"So you guys are leaning towards Amy?" Xander asked.

"She's so desperate to get on that team," Buffy explained, "I think she'd do anything to make her mom's dream come true."

"Aren't you ahead of Amy on the list?" Xander asked, a warning tone in his voice.

"Let me make sure I understand: a witch is casting horrid, disfiguring spells so she can be a cheerleader?" Giles inquired.

"Yeah," Buffy nodded, "Your point?"

"Priorities!" Giles exclaimed, "If I had the entire power of black mass at my command, I'd set my sights a bit higher than making the pep squad."

"You're underestimating the amount of pressure a parent can put on you," Buffy observed, "If you're not picture perfect, they tend to wig."

"Cheerleading was her mom's last hurrah," Willow added.

"How do we stop Amy?" Xander asked.

Giles shook his head, flipping through one of the tomes on his desk. "Before we take action, we must be certain our suspicions are correct. Without, of course, alerting her to our suspicions. She's capable of some truly awful things."

"Okay," Buffy said slowly, "You're a high school girl and you're desperate to please your mom. You turn to witchcraft. What do you do first?"

"Check out books on witchcraft," Willow abruptly rose from her seat at the reading table where they were gathered, and made her way to the nearest computer station.

"I was gonna say Google," Stiles muttered.

"Yes!" Xander exclaimed, "Books are the very last thing you do! She wouldn't leave a paper trail!"

"It'll only take a minute to look," Willow pointed out.

"We don't have a minute," Xander continued, "Cheerleaders lives are in danger. And so is Buffy's. She's first alternate, she's on the team now that Cordelia's out! You could be next. Our first priority should be to establish a safe house!"

"I'm on the team!" Buffy shouted, her eyes lighting up. Clearly, she hadn't realized this yet.

"Xander!" Willow exclaimed.

"Yes?" Xander stammered.

Willow read from the computer screen. "'Witches – Historic Roots to Modern Practices' checked out by Alexander Harris."

Stiles moved over to the computer and read the next entry on the screen. "'The Pagan Rites' checked out by Alexander Harris."

"Alright!" Xander jumped in, "But it isn't what you think!"

"You like to look at the semi-nude engravings?" Willow guessed.

Xander nodded. "I guess it is what you think."

Giles, for his part, continued flipping through his text. "We need a conclusive test. There should be one in here – here we are! The ducking stool. We'll throw her in a pond, if she floats she's a witch. If she drowns…" He trailed off for a minute then added, "It is possible this text is rather outdated."

"No kidding," Stiles rolled his eyes.

"This should work though," Giles went on, flipping the page, "We'll need her hair, a little quicksilver, and aqua fortis."

"Easy," Willow nodded, "Mercury and nitric acid. They're in the chemistry lab."

Giles read aloud from the book. "'Heat ingredients and apply to witch. If a spell has been cast in the previous forty-eight hours, the witch' skin will turn blue." Oh, we'll also need some eye of newt.

"On any other day, that'd be a problem," Willow said with an eager smile.

Stiles raised an eyebrow. "Really, Will? You're all 'ugh dead bodies' when it's people, but you're looking forward to handling eye of newt?"

* * *

Sunnydale High: Biology Lab

Dr. Gregory finished his first demonstration to the class, and looked up with a kindly smile. "Those on track one may begin their dissections. Track two, add your hydrochloric acid and ammonium hydroxide to your beakers, please. Just like this." He demonstrated, pouring the liquids into a beaker. The demonstration could be seen by the whole class in the mirror that hung over his desk. The students murmured their amazement when the beaker spewed forth smoke.

Xander, meanwhile, stood over a defenseless, deceased frog, holding the scalpel in his hand. As nice as Dr. Gregory was – and he was maybe the nicest teacher in the school – he just hadn't been able to convince him that cutting into a frog corpse was an okay thing to do. "I can't," he finally admitted to Willow.

Willow shrugged, taking the scalpel from Xander and making a quick incision in the frog. "Eye of newt," she said with a wry smile.

"You have a killer streak in you. Remind me never to cross you," Xander said, impressed.

Willow smiled. "Oh I will, I'd hate to have to carve you into neat little pieces."

"Is that going to work though? It's a frog," Xander asked.

"Giles says it will work," Willow nodded, "Now we just need Buffy with the hair."

* * *

Buffy stepped past Lishanne, who was feigning interest in her smoking beaker. "Isn't this exciting?" the Cordette cracked sardonically.

Buffy ignored her, focused on her goal. Amy was only a few steps away. "Amy, I'm confused," Buffy stammered, "Which one is the hydrochloric acid, and which is the ammonium hydroxide?"

Amy raised an eyebrow. "The bottle that says hydrochloric acid is usually the one with the hydrochloric acid."

"Oh, that's a great idea," Buffy exclaimed, "Reading the bottles! I should have thought of that!" She paused for a moment – there really wasn't too subtle a way of doing this. So, she dropped her pen. She feigned surprise at her own clumsiness – how convincing she was remained to be seen, and dropped to the floor to pick it up. Hastily, she snuck her hand into Amy's open purse and yanked a strand of hair off of her brush as she stood.

"Got it?" Amy asked. She was staring.

"Yeah," Buffy smiled and stepped away. That was definitely not the best ruse she'd ever enacted. She hurried back to her seat in front of Willow and Xander – passing them the strand of hair as she did.

Willow quickly dropped the strand of hair into a beaker, warming over a Bunsen burner. After a moment, the concoction's color shifted into a sickening yellow. She grimaced, and handed the beaker back to Buffy. "Do you have a plan?"

"Plan is such a strong word," Buffy smiled sheepishly, "I thought I'd pour it on her and try to act as natural as I could."

Xander nodded. "We'll be right behind. Except, further back."

Buffy took the beaker, swallowed nervously, and headed back towards Amy's desk. Her eyes were locked on Amy – whose eyes were fortunately locked ahead of her, on the back of Lishanne's head. The walk seemed to take forever, but when Buffy finally reached her target, she feigned a trip and managed to spill a few drops onto Amy's arm.

The skin underneath turned blue – but there was no time to relish the fact. Lishanne had suddenly begun to writhe and panic. Doctor Gregory, turning to see what the disturbance was, shouted "Oh my God!" and pressed himself up against the wall, terrified.

Then Lishanne turned. Amy shrieked, and backed away. Buffy's jaw dropped open in shock. Lishanne's mouth had vanished.

* * *

Sunnydale High: Halls

Doctor Gregory had quickly evacuated the class, leaving Buffy, Willow and Xander standing outside to discuss what had happened.

"Look," Xander insisted, "Amy was as freaked out as everyone else."

"The test was positive," Buffy replied, shaking her head, "She's our Sabrina. Maybe she doesn't know she's doing it?"

"Do we talk to her?" Willow asked.

Buffy chewed her bottom lip for a moment, and then shook her head. "I think we should talk to her mother. I'll bet she has no idea what she's created."

* * *

Hale House

Scott leapt off his bike in front of the Hale house, tossing his backpack to the ground. He'd pedaled as fast as his legs could go – which, as it turned out, was now much faster than he'd ever been able to before. "Derek!" he shouted, "Derek, get out here!"

There was no sign of Derek, but there was a distinct smell coming from an area of dirt that looked like it had recently been disturbed. Blood. Scott stared at the area. Could Derek really have buried his victim right here?

"What?" Derek snarled. He'd appeared on the porch sometime while Scott was distracted.

"Stay away from her!" Scott demanded, snapping his attention back to the other werewolf. "She doesn't know anything!"

"Yet," Derek growled, "You think you have all the answers because your little friend Googled werewolves? You don't realize it yet, but I'm looking out for you. What do you think they'll do to you if you change in front of them? Like you almost did at practice? I saw that, you know. Close call. Too close."

Derek smirked, leaning down and snatching Scott's lacrosse stick from his backpack. He twirled it in his hands a bit. "Just imagine, you're out on the field. The aggression takes over and you shift. In front of everyone. Allison. Your mom. Your team." Derek's eyes flashed red and there was a tearing sound – his hand had shifted into claws and torn the netting on the lacrosse stick. "Everything will fall apart."

With that said, he tossed the lacrosse stick into the air. Scott caught it easily, but when he looked again Derek was gone.

* * *

Madison House

Amy pushed open the door to the house and stomped inside. "Where are you?" she snapped, without looking. She turned and looked into the living room. There was the well-preserved Catherine Madison – turning off the television like a child caught something she wasn't supposed to be doing.

"As productive today as ever," Amy sighed, tossing her backpack onto the couch. "I have a history report due tomorrow. Write it." She stormed towards the stairs leading up to the next floor, fuming, "I should be on that team by now. Instead, Little Miss Buffy and her friends sneaking around and taking pieces of my hair. Well, that just won't do."

With a smirk, she pulled a bracelet out of her pocket and mounted the steps. "'Yours Always', how cute. I'll be upstairs. Get that report done."

* * *

McCall House

Stiles flung open the door to Scott's room, questions seeming to make it out of his mouth before he could even think them. "What did you find? How did you find it? Where did you find it? Yes, I've had a lot of Adderall, now talk!"

Scott was unphased. Enough time around Stiles and you got used to this kind of thing. Scott had been getting used to it for most of his life. "I was at Derek Hale's," he explained as he restrung his lacrosse stick, "There's something buried there. I smelled blood."

"That's awesome!" Stiles exclaimed, "I mean, terrible. I mean, well, who's blood?"

"I don't know," Scott shrugged, "But we're going to find out. And then your dad is going to nail Derek for the murder and then you are going to help me figure out how to play lacrosse without changing. Because I am definitely playing that game."

* * *

Sunnydale Memorial Hospital

Stiles shifted his weigh uncomfortably as he waited in the waiting room. That's what these rooms were intended for. Waiting. Usually waiting for a doctor, though, not waiting for your friend who was breaking into the morgue.

And to make him more nervous, Lydia was sitting right in front of him. Also waiting. He wasn't sure for what, but he assumed her friend was not also breaking into the morgue.

Finally, Stiles worked up his nerve and approached her. "Hey, Lydia!" he smiled, "I, uh, I sit behind you in Biology. With Doctor Gregory. Stiles." She did not respond, just tilted her head thoughtfully. So, Stiles went on. "Don't you think we have this kind of connection? I've always felt it. I mean, an unspoken one…" Lydia smiled, nodded. "We should get to know each other. Hang out."

Lydia reached up under her flowing strawberry blonde hair to her ear, finally speaking. "Hold on a second, I'm sorry." She took the blue tooth off her ear and looked at Stiles. "I didn't get any of what you just said," she told him, "Was it worth repeating?"

Stiles' courage deflated. "No, no, it wasn't." He slid backwards into a seat and groaned, "I'm just gonna sit."

"Okay," Lydia said with an eyeroll, putting the blue tooth back onto her ear, "Go on. I'm back."

* * *

Stiles was hiding behind a pamphlet about some sort of health or medical situation. He hadn't read a single word of it, so it was hard to say what it was. He'd spent most of his time peeking around it at Lydia.

He was not particularly surprised, or impressed, when Lydia jumped to her feet as Jackson approached. "Did you do it?" she asked.

"Yeah," Jackson replied, "He said not to make a habit of it, but one Cortisone shot won't kill me."

"Oh, you should get one right before the game too," Lydia mused thoughtfully, "Pros do it all the time." With an excited grin, she wrapped her arms around Jackson's neck and kissed him. He couldn't help but wrap his arms around her waist and return the affectionate gesture.

It all made Stiles want to gag.

He didn't have much time to dwell on it, however, as that was when his pamphlet was torn out of his hands. "It was the same scent," Scott announced in a hushed whisper.

"So Derek buried the other half of the body on his property," Stiles nodded.

Scott sighed, "So we've got proof now, but what do we do with it?"

"I have an idea," Stiles reassured him, "But first I need to know if you're doing this because you want to stop Derek or because you want to play in the game and he said you couldn't."

"There's bite marks on the leg, Stiles," Scott replied sternly, "Like the one that was on me."

"Then we'll need shovels."

* * *

Hale House

It was fortunate, Scott thought, that the car that had been sitting in front of the house before was gone. He couldn't smell Derek on the property either. "It's safe," he told Stiles, "But… something's different."

"Different how?"

"I don't know," Scott shrugged, "Let's just get this over with. What if he comes back?"

"I have a plan for that," Stiles said, "You run in one direction. I run in the other. Whoever he catches, oh well."

"I hate that plan," Scott groaned. He strode over to the spot of fresh dirt and started digging. Stiles joined him. It was amazing, Scott thought, how easy he found this to be while Stiles struggled to keep up. It seemed to take hardly any time at all before their shovels struck a coarse fabric. They quickly uncovered a burlap sack that definitely had something in it.

Stiles and Scott worked in unison to untie the ropes that held it shut. As soon as the knots were loose, the burlap fell open. Both boys shouted and leaped backwards out of the pit they'd dug.

"What is that?" Stiles screeched, staring at the dead thing in the pit.

"I think it's a wolf," Scott anwered.

"I see that!" Stiles snapped, "I thought you said it was a person!"

"I told you something was different!" Scott retorted, "Help me cover this up and let's get out of here!"

But Stiles' eye had landed on something other than the monstrous dead thing in the pit. A flower at the edge of the dirt patch. "Wait, see that flower?"

"What about it?" Scott asked.

Stiles squinted at it in the dark. "I think it looks like wolfsbane."

"What's that?"

Stiles stared, dumbfounded at his friend. "Haven't you ever seen The Wolfman?"

"No," Scott shook his head.

"You are so unbelievably unprepared for this," Stiles quipped, crawling over to the flower. He yanked, and it came free of the dirt easily – pulling a length of rope with it. Stiles began pulling the rope, following it around the pit they had dug in a spiral that grew smaller and smaller. Finally, the end of the rope came free of the dirt.

"Look at that," Scott gasped, staring into the pit. Now, inside the burlap, was a woman. Or, half a body.

* * *

Hale House: the Next Morning

It was an extremely early morning for Scott and Stiles, who had been dredged out of bed by Sheriff Stilinski to bring him to the place they'd found the body. That's what they'd planned on of course.

Now, they leaned against Stiles' Jeep, watching Derek dragged out of his house in cuffs. He was staring at them, his eyes like daggers and ready to kill. Stiles wasn't intimidated – or at least, he wasn't going to show that he was. After Derek had been put in the back of the patrol car, Stiles snuck to it and crawled into the passenger seat.

"I'm not afraid of you," he announced. His conviction wavered. "Maybe I am. Beside the point… I have a question…"

"Why are you so worried about me?" Derek growled, "Your friend is the problem. He shifts on the field you think everyone's going to keep cheering? Tell him not to play. Trust me, you want to."

Stiles didn't have a chance to respond – the car door opened and an arm reached in and pulled him out. The vice-like grip couldn't belong to anyone except his father.

"What in the hell do you think you're doing?" he asked, in his Sheriff tone of voice rather than his fatherly tone of voice. That meant trouble.

"Trying to help," Stiles exclaimed.

The Sheriff rolled his eyes. "Help me understand how you found this, then."

"We were looking for Scott's inhaler," Stiles volunteered.

"Which he dropped…" his dad guessed, "The other night when you were out here looking for the first half of the body."

"Yes," Stiles said, before realizing what he'd done.

"When you said you were out here by yourself? And Scott was home?" His father's finger was jabbing at the air in front of him accusingly.

"Yes – no! No. Not that night… another…" Stiles stammered, trying to desperately to cover his tracks. "Crap."

"So you lied to me," the Sheriff finished.

Stiles shrugged. "Depends on how you define lying."

"I define it as not telling the truth, how do you define it?" his father asked.

Stiles' pursed his lips for a moment, then answered. "I define it as reclining your body in a horizontal position."

The Sheriff smirked and rolled his eyes. "Get the hell out of here."

"Absolutely, yes, sir," Stiles needed no second bidding. He ran for his Jeep.

* * *

Sunnydale Roads

Scott tapped away on Stiles' tablet while Stiles drove the Jeep away from the Hale house and towards school. "I can't find anything about wolfsbane being used for burial," he groaned, frustration getting to him. His head was pounding.

"Keep looking," Stiles said, "Maybe it's a ritual. They bury their dead as a wolf. Maybe… maybe it's a skill you have to learn or…"

Scott was definitely not feeling well now. "I'll put it on my to do list," he snarled, "Along with how the hell I'm playing the game tonight."

"Maybe it's a different breed of werewolf. Or maybe it's different for girl werewolves…"

"Stop it!" Scott snapped, "Stop saying werewolf. Stop enjoying this."

"Are you okay?" Stiles asked.

"No!" Scott roared, "I'm so far from being okay."

"You are going to have to accept this," Stiles said encouragingly.

"I can't," Scott rasped.

"You have to," Stiles repeated.

"Can't breathe," Scott rasped again, clutching at his chest.

Stiles immediately pulled to the side of the road, while Scott pushed at the ceiling, at the door, at anything to keep from feeling so closed in. "What's happening?" Stiles whimpered fearfully.

"Did you… did you keep the wolfsbane?" Scott asked, through heavy breaths.

Stiles blinked. "What else was I supposed to do?"

"Get rid of it," Scott ordered, "Now!"

Obediently, Stiles grabbed his backpack out of the Jeep and headed to the woods. He grabbed the coil of rope and hurled it as far as he could. Scott, however, was hardly concerned. The wolf wanted to run. He could feel it urging him to run.

So Scott obeyed, leaping from the Jeep and taking off into the woods.

* * *

Summers House: Kitchen

Buffy dropped the remains of her alarm clock in the trash. She'd absolutely crushed it hitting snooze. It didn't matter, she was thrilled to be alive this morning. "Cause I don't feel like dancing when the old Joanna plays…" she sang, opening the refrigerator, "Hey juice."

She poured herself a glass of orange juice, putting the jug back in the fridge before downing the entire glass in one gulp. "Quality juice. Not from concentrate."

"You're in a good mood," her mother observed hesitantly.

Buffy nodded, grabbing her mom's glass of juice. "Of course! I'm on the squad! Which is great because I have a strong yearning to cheer and to lead others to cheer. Hey, juice!" She gulped down her mother's glass as well.

"About yesterday…" her mom started.

"Forget it!" Buffy exclaimed joyfully, "It's all in the yester. It's a brand new day. I mean, you were right. I did get kicked out. I'm wacky like that."

Her mom tried again. "Still, I want you to know that despite any problems you've had…"

"You don't get it," Buffy shook her head, "Believe me, you don't want to. There's just things about being a vampire slayer the older generation has a problem with."

"What?"

"Long story. I mean, I'm kidding," Buffy beamed.

"Are you feeling okay?" her mom had the furrowed brow that meant she was considering calling a doctor.

"I can't be in a good mood?" Buffy asked, "Is that a new rule? You know what? That's okay because…. I don't feel like dancing when the old Joanna plays, my heart could take a chance but my two feet can't find a way…"

* * *

Argent House

Scott followed a familiar and amazing scent, eventually reaching a house. It was Allison's. He leapt onto the roof, climbing carefully towards the scent. And then he caught sight of himself in a reflection off the window. He had fur, gold eyes, and ridges across his face. Alarmed, he shook his head and leapt off the roof. Rising to his feet, he took a step onto the driveway.

BAM! The front of the car slammed into him, knocking Scott to the side. He grabbed at his face – was he transformed? No, he seemed to be fully human at the moment. A relief.

"Are you okay?" a man's voice shouted. Allison's dad threw himself out the car door to check on the kid.

Allison came running out the front door. "Dad, what the hell are you doing?"

"He came out of nowhere," her father exclaimed.

"Scott!" Allison exclaimed.

"I'm fine," Scott breathed.

"Are you trying to kill him?" Allison glared at her father.

"I'm sorry," her dad stammered.

"No, no, it's my fault," Scott jumped in, "I'm sorry I hit your car. I just wanted to say hi and I'm sorry for how weird I've been acting."

"Weird, I can handle," Allison smiled.

"You're sure you're okay?" her father asked, helping Scott to his feet.

"Well, I should go," Scott said, staring deeply into Allison's eyes and paying no attention to her father – who was staring at her, "Gotta get to school. See you at the lacrosse game tomorrow night?"

"Of course I'm coming," Allison grinned.

"We both are," Mr. Argent added.

* * *

Sunnydale High: Gymnasium

"Turn up the music!" Buffy shouted enthusiastically, waving her pompoms in the air. She'd been in a remarkably good mood all day.

And the music, as if on her cue, blared to life. They began the routine, every one of the cheerleaders smiling but none so much as Buffy. And then her foot came down on the senior cheerleader's.

"Ow!" she shrieked, "Get it together, Buffy. We have a game tomorrow."

The cheerleader in charge of the music stopped the song in time to hear the gymnasium door shut. Everyone's eyes turned to see Willow, Xander, and Stiles sneaking towards the bleachers.

"Those are my friends!" Buffy exclaimed loudly, "I love my friends!"

Xander raised an eyebrow. "Is Buffy completely looped or is it just me?"

The cheerleaders began another routine, where each one launched another into a cartwheel.

"Oh, we need to get her out of here," Willow said, inhaling sharply. "Before…"

She didn't get a chance to finish the sentence. Buffy launched the senior cheerleader much more strongly than was necessary. She went flew into the wall and crashed to the ground.

"She hurts someone?" Xander and Stiles finished in unison.

"You are so out of here!" the senior cheerleader snapped, rising to her feet. She was more furious than she was injured.

"It's not her fault," Willow interjected, running to grab Buffy, "She's on medication…"

"Not enough," the senior cheerleader raged, "Amy, congratulations. You're a cheerleader now."

"No!" Buffy shouted, "You don't want her, she's a wi—"

Xander clapped a hand over Buffy's mouth as Willow and Stiles struggled to drag her towards the door. "She's a wise choice," he finished, "Very wise."

Amy, fully dressed in her uniform, watched them leave, a smug smile spread over her face.

* * *

Sunnydale High: Hallways

"What a witch!" Buffy yelled, struggling against her three friends. After a moment she calmed and sighed, "I just got kicked off the team, didn't I?"

"I don't think it's your fault," Xander said.

Buffy didn't give him a chance to explain. "Of course not," she announced, "That's cause you're my friend. My Xander shaped friend. Do you know why I love you, Xander?"

Stiles and Willow both rushed to interrupt. "We need to get her to…" Willow attempted.

Stiles stammered, "Giles will surely know…"

"Let her speak!" Xander demanded.

Buffy grinned at him. "You're one of the girls. You're a guy but you're like a girl. I'm that comfy with you."

"That was worth hearing," Willow agreed, smirking.

"Any other guy gave me a bracelet, he'd want to date, it'd be a whooole thing," Buffy continued, "But you… I don't feel so good." Without any warning, she suddenly slumped backwards into Xander's chest. He caught her, stumbling backwards.

"Buffy?" he asked.

"Hospital, now," Willow suggested.

"Something… not good…" Buffy gasped, sweat beginning to bead on her forehead.

"Giles first, hospital second," Stiles suggested.

* * *

Sunnydale High: Library

Buffy sprawled across two easy chairs, surrounded by cushions.

"So, hospital?" Scott asked, staring down at her. He'd been trying to research how to control the wolf when Stiles and the others had dragged her into the room and hastily rearranged the furniture.

"They can't help her," Giles announced, "This has the makings of Bloodstone Vengeance spell. Hits the body hard – like taking a bottle of happy pills. Then eradicates the immune system."

"Vengeance?" Xander questioned, "Why's she getting even with Buffy?"

"Cause she knows that I know she's a witch," Buffy managed to croak out.

Giles nodded. "The others she just wanted off the team. You she intends to…"

"Kill," Buffy finished.

"How much time do we have?" Willow asked.

Giles shrugged, "I'm sure we have…"

"Truth," Buffy ordered.

"Two or three hours, tops," Giles grimaced.

Scott shook his head, groaning. He didn't especially like Buffy most of the time, but she was the last resort for how he was going to play. Besides, she hadn't done anything to warrant dying. "How do we stop the spell?"

"We can reverse all her spells if we can get our hands on her spellbook," Giles announced.

"I can't help but notice you didn't have to look that up," Stiles raised an eyebrow suspiciously.

Giles narrowed his eyes at Stiles. "I've been at this for quite a while, Stiles. This is not my first witch and I suspect it will not be my last."

"And if we can't get our hands on it?" Willow inquired.

"The only other way is to cut off her head," Giles answered.

"All in favor?" Xander raised his hand.

Buffy shook her head weakly. "It's not her fault. She's just trying to survive her mom."

"I don't care, I care that you keep breathing," Xander insisted.

Scott asked, "Where would she be casting these spells?"

"For spells like this one, she would need a sacred space and a pentagram and a cauldron," Giles answered, as if reading off a list from inside his head.

"At her house?" Stiles suggested.

Buffy pushed against the chair. "Help me get up. We're going."

"We'll go with you," Willow volunteered.

"No," Buffy ordered as Giles helped her to her feet, "Stay here, keep an eye on Amy."

"And we'll need her away from the science wing," Giles instructed, "We're going to need a lab in order to cast the counter spell."

* * *

Madison House

Giles rapped his knuckles on the wooden front door, as Buffy leaned on the railing of the front steps. After a moment, a woman appeared and opened the door. "Hello?" she stuttered, "What do you want? Is something wrong?"

Giles was quick to respond. "Mrs. Madison, I presume. I need to speak with you about your daughter. We need to come in."

"I'm not allowed—" she stammered, "You will have to come back." She tried to shove the door shut, but Giles slid his foot into the entryway.

"I'm afraid I'm not giving you a choice," Giles insisted, shoving back on the door. It swung open, as a surprised Catherine stumbled backwards. "Your daughter is involved in something very dangerous."

"I don't know what you're talking about," the nervous woman replied.

"I rather think you do," Giles countered sternly, leading Buffy into the house. She collapsed on a sofa just inside the living room.

"You have to go," Catherine urged, "She'll be home soon!"

"This girl is very ill," Giles went on, ignoring her pleas, "Now shut up and listen to me. Your daughter has accessed powerful and dark magic. Somehow, your obsession with cheerleading has—"

"I don't care about cheerleading!" Catherine exclaimed, "This isn't my fault!"

Buffy was no longer paying attention to the argument. Something under the coffee table had caught her eye and she was reaching for it.

"As a mother you need to take responsibility—" Giles said accusingly.

Buffy interrupted, though her voice was weak. "Amy?" In her hands she held a plate of brownies that had been hidden under the table. "Are you Amy?"

Giles furrowed his brow. "I don't understand."

"She switched bodies with you," Buffy managed, "She wanted to relive her glory days."

Catherine – or rather, Catherine's body – nodded. "She said I was wasting my youth. So she took it."

She sighed heavily and went to the couch, where she collapsed as though she'd just unloaded something heavy and was exhausted. "I didn't know she had such power. When she and my dad used to fight, he called her a witch. I didn't know he meant it literally. When he left, I wanted to go with him but she wouldn't even let me call him. She just went crazy. And sometimes, she locked herself upstairs for days. She always said I didn't know how hard I had it and then one day last month… I woke up in her bed. Looked in the mirror. I guess she showed me."

"Upstairs where?" Giles demanded.

Amy, in Catherine's body, choked back tears. "She has a room in the attic."

Giles nodded. "Show me."

* * *

Madison House: Dark Attic

Catherine's finger reached out and flicked the switch, turning on what dim light there was in this attic room. "She'll kill me if she finds out I came in here."

"Never fear," Giles assured her, "We should be able to reverse all of your mother's spells. I'll need the book, or books she's used. Perhaps some of her talismans…." His voice trailed off as his eyes fell upon a vast collection of dolls. "Those, certainly. Could you collect them?"

As the woman went to do as she was told, a black cat screeched and leapt at Giles, before scampering down the stairs.

"A familiar, of course," Giles gasped, recovering from the surprise, "What was it guarding?" It did not take much investigation to find a trunk in the direction the cat had come from. He pried it open. Within he found one impressively large tome. "Yes, this is it."

"So where do we go now?"

"We go to school," Giles instructed, "And you'll come with us."

* * *

Sunnydale High: Biology Lab

Buffy lay sprawled across one of the tables, Amy – in her mother's body – gently patting at her forehead with a wet cloth. Meanwhile, Giles triple checked that he had enough ingredients. "Sulphur, lead, diacetate, eye of… well, frog… the book, yes."

As hastily as possible, he made a solution in a beaker and ground several of the other ingredients into a fine powder. He poured the powder into the beaker, following by dumping the frog eyes in as well. Then, he began the incantation, pouring the boiling fluid over the spellbook. "The center is dark, centrum est obscurum. The darkness breathes, tenebrae respiratis. The listener hears. Hear me."

Catherine – or Amy, at this point – stumbled a bit. "I saw… the gymnasium… cheerleaders… it's working."

Giles continued. "Unlock the gate, let the darkness shine. Cover us with holy fear. Show me. Show me." The fluorescent lights overhead flickered dramatically, then went out.

* * *

Sunnydale High: Gymnasium

Willow, Xander, Stiles and Scott watched the cheerleading practice silently from the first row of bleachers, as close to the exit door as they could manage. Amy, for her part, was obviously delighted to be on the squad.

And, aside from that, now she was on top of the pyramid. "Sunnydale, Sunnydale, we never fail!" the pep squad cheered in unison.

And then, Amy swayed, her smile vanished. It was only for a moment, but it was enough. The pyramid collapsed beneath her.

"Amy, what is your problem?" one of the cheerleaders snapped.

Amy didn't answer, she only glared. The look was so furious the other cheerleaders shrank away. And without a word, Amy raced for the nearest doors and out into the hall.

And the four friends watching sprang into action.

* * *

Sunnydale High: Hallways

"Amy! Wait!" Willow grabbed Amy's arm – managing, by pure luck, to time her own exit from the gymnasium just in time for Amy to round the corner from the side she'd left by. "I can help you!"

"With what?" Amy snapped.

"Your witchcraft!" Willow exclaimed, "I know a great…. Cauldron. And, there's this broom store…"

Amy didn't answer, she spun around and found herself face-to-face with Xander. She muttered a few short words under her breath. Xander clutched at his throat, gasping for air, and collapsed to the ground.

"Xander!" Willow shouted. She didn't get a chance to move, Amy spun again and landed a fist in Willow's face, knocking her to the ground.

Stiles acted next, leaping from behind Willow. Amy murmured a few more quiet words in another language and hurled Stiles into the lockers on the other side of the hall. He groaned and slid to the floor.

"Stiles!" Scott yelled. He was enraged to watch each of his friends pulverized by their classmate. So enraged that the Change came through him almost too fast for him to even recognize it. Amy gasped to see him shift. He snarled and charged for her.

But her gasp, he soon realized, was not surprise. It was delight. "I've wanted to try this spell out for years," Amy grinned maliciously, "Lycanthae nixus."

Scott felt the air thicken around him, felt his claws recede back into hands. The Change was being forcibly, painfully reversed by the spell. He briefly wondered if this would be useful to know at his lacrosse game before the world went black.

* * *

Sunnydale High: Biology Lab

Giles was nearly done with the incantation. He could hear someone pounding on the other side of the door – he was certain it was the witch trying to get in to stop him. "Corsheth and Gilail, the gate is closed. Receive the dark, release the unworthy. Take of mine energy and be sated." Now he drizzled the solution, now drenching the spellbook, onto his hands, "Be sated. Release the unworthy!"

And then the door swung open, Amy storming in – wielding an emergency fire axe she must've grabbed from one of the cases in the halls. She charged.

"Release!" Giles shouted, "Release! Release!"

Amy dropped the axe – it clattered to the ground as a blinding flash of light filled the room. When the light faded, Amy was patting herself, smiling.

Buffy sat upright and slid off the table to the floor. "Amy? Is that you?"

"It's me but look—" The warning came too late. Catherine grabbed Buffy's hair and pulled her back across the table, shrieking in rage. Giles made to run towards her, but Catherine was too fast – flinging out her arm. Giles was hurled back, slamming his head into the chalkboard.

"Mom, please!" Amy cried out.

Catherine just shook her head. "You little brat, you would raise a hand to your own mother? I gave birth to you. I gave you life! I gave up my life! And you just drag that carcass around and say you're living? You were never anything but trouble. I'll put you somewhere you'll never make trouble again."

During this enraged monologue, Buffy rose to her feet. Finally, she tapped Catherine on the shoulder. "Guess what?" she said brightly as the witch turned around, "I feel better now." With a mighty uppercut to the jaw, she tossed Catherine onto the other side of the table.

Catherine stood, utterly infuriated, and threw out her arms. She lifted her hands skyward, and Buffy followed, rising from the ground. In a swift motion, Catherine hurled Buffy across the room and pinned her against the chalkboard with the invisible force she commanded.

"That body was mine!" she shrieked.

Buffy, despite her predicament, rolled her eyes. "You know what? Grow up."

Catherine had finally had enough. "I shall look upon my enemy…" she began.

Scott interrupted the spell, grabbed ahold of Catherine's arm. Without taking her eyes from Buffy, she magically pressed Scott up against the wall. It was not enough to stop the spell, but it was enough to release Buffy from the telekinetic hold. Catherine continued the incantation, "I shall look upon her and the dark place will have her soul! Corsheth take her!"

As mystical energy swirled around Catherine, Buffy leapt up and grabbed hold of Doctor Gregory's mirror, pulling it down as the energy flew towards her. Instantly, the power reflected from the mirror and struck Catherine. She screamed as a blast of purple light engulfed her.

And then she was gone.

Giles and Scott, on separate sides of the room, slowly stood.

"So, uhm, Amy's not the witch?" Scott asked.

Giles nodded, breathing deeply. "That was interesting."

"Is everyone okay?" Buffy asked.

"I'm fine," Amy answered.

"I believe all the spells were reversed," Giles added, "Although I've never cast such a thing before, I may have got it wrong."

"You were," Buffy said reassuringly, "You were more than fine. You saved my life. You were a god. You too, Scott, thanks."

"Repay me tomorrow night," Scott said with a grin.

"Yes, I'm not unsatisfied," Giles nodded.

"This is America," Buffy observed, "It's okay to stop being so proper. Brag a little."

Giles smiled. "Those incantations can be quite tricky, and I was rather inventive with the ingredients, if I may say so…"

Suddenly, Xander raced through the door and tackled Amy. "I got her! I got her! Cut off her head!"

"Xander, no!" Buffy shouted, "What are you doing?"

"Saving you!" Xander replied, "She's evil!"

"It wasn't her!" Scott exclaimed.

Amy shrugged. "It was my mom."

Willow rushed into the room, a baseball bat in hand. "Where is she?" she demanded.

"Willow, it's okay, it's cool!" Xander announced, releasing Amy from his grasp, "It took care of it."

* * *

Summers Home: Buffy's Bedroom

Buffy was spending a good amount of time figuring out what to wear to the lacrosse game. If she hadn't been kicked off the team, she would have figured on wearing her cheerleading uniform. Now this was proving difficult. She was almost grateful to see her mom gently push open the door.

But her mother didn't offer any helpful fashion tips. "I don't get it," she announced.

Buffy just stared. "What?"

Her mother sighed and sat on the foot of Buffy's bed. "I've been trying to think of a way to relate to you and what you're going through. I've just come to the conclusion that I don't get it. I don't know what you want, I don't know what you're thinking. I haven't got a clue."

"So, I'm inscrutable?" Buffy smiled a bit at this.

Her mom shrugged. "You're sixteen. I think there's some biological imperative whereby I can't understand you because I'm not sixteen."

"Do you ever wish you could be sixteen again?"

Her mother grimaced. "No, that's a frightening idea. I wouldn't go through all that again even if it helped me understand you."

Buffy shook her head, a little amused. "I love you, Mom."

"I don't get it."

"Want to come to a lacrosse game with me tonight?" Buffy asked.

* * *

Sunnydale High: Boys' Locker Room

Stiles and Scott changed wordlessly side by side. Finally, Scott broke the silence. "You're not going to try to convince me not to play again?"

"I just hope you know what you're doing," Stiles said, sighing, "I mean, it's just one game. By the next one, maybe we'll have a better handle on things. I don't think you need to play."

"You're right," Scott nodded, "I don't need to play. I want to play. I want to be on the team. I want to go out with Allison. I want some things in my life to be normal. Things are so crazy and messed up."

Stiles shook his head. "Allison is not going anywhere. But I get it. All our lives are pretty weird now we know what's going on in this town." He paused, then added. "Just try not to worry too much while you're out there. Don't get too angry. Or stressed."

"I got it," Scott agreed.

Stiles kept going. "Don't think about Allison. Don't think about witchcraft. Don't think about vampires. Don't think about the Hellmouth. Don't think about hunters. Don't think about how Allison's dad is a hunter… Don't think about how he'll be in the stands too. Don't think about how he's trying to kill you. Or that Derek's trying to kill you. Or that girl he killed already. Or that you might kill someone." He caught sight of Scott's alarmed stare. "You're right, I'm sorry, I'll stop. Good luck."

* * *

Sunnydale High: Lacrosse Field

Scott strolled out onto the field alongside Stiles. The bleachers were full – he caught sight of Allison and her father just settling into seats. Buffy and presumably her mom, alongside Willow and Xander, looking for a place the four of them could squeeze into. Scott spied his own mother, comfortably positioned in one of the back corners of the seats. She waved when she saw him.

"Scott!" Lydia interrupted his people watching, stepping out right in front of him, "Remember something for me tonight."

"Winning isn't everything?" Scott suggested innocently.

She smiled wryly. "That's cute. Nobody likes a loser." She patted him on the shoulder, then made her way into the stands.

As he approached the bench, he overheard Coach Finstock and Jackson chatting. "How's your shoulder?" Coach Finstock asked, almost sounding kind.

"Fine," Jackson replied.

"Great," the coach nodded, "Listen, go out there. Do your best. If you feel any pain, just…"

"Just ignore it?" Jackson finished.

Coach Finstock grinned. "There ya go. That's my boy!"

Stiles took up his usual position on the bench, only to be immediately accosted by his father – still in uniform, no doubt having left straight from work. "Hey kiddo," he said happily, "Think you'll see any action tonight?"

"Action?" Stiles stammered, eyeing Scott, "Maybe."

* * *

The game started a few minutes later. The two teams were pretty evenly matched, although Jackson scored the first point only a minute into the game – at which point Lydia and Allison held up a sign that said "WE LUV U JACKSON" and screamed while the rest of the stands erupted into applause. Scott grimaced, but did his best to keep his head in the game.

Jackson took every opportunity to keep Scott from getting the ball. Scott even overheard him ordering Danny, "Don't pass to McCall." It didn't make too much difference, every time they scored, the other team scored almost immediately afterwards. Every time the other team scored, they scored. It was anybody's game.

And then, the other team scored twice in a row. Scott glanced towards the stands – Lydia and Allison held up a sign reading "JACKSON IS #1". He felt the ripple through his body. It was becoming more and more familiar now, the Change. His hearing was growing sharper, he was beginning to pick up bits of conversation even from the stands.

"Which one is Scott again?" Mr. Argent was asking.

"Number 11," Allison answered.

Lydia chimed in helpfully, "The one who hasn't caught the ball even once yet."

"I hope he's okay," Allison added.

The ball, however, seemed to be slowing down. He watched it coarse through the air. He leapt after it, landing a foot on an opposing player's shoulder to carry him high enough. He caught the ball in the net of his lacrosse stick and took off for the goal. No one on the field moved at all fast enough to stop him.

Coach Finstock screamed from the sidelines "Pass to McCall!"

The new plan of his only had one hiccup – the other team got the ball next. Scott faced off against the player who had caught it, breathing heavily as the Change still rippled through him. And then, unexpectedly, he tossed the ball to Scott.

"Did the other team just intentionally give us the ball?" the coach asked Stiles.

Stiles agreed, "I believe that's affirmative."

Scott dodged and weaved between players, finally hurling the ball into the goal. The goalie tried to block it, but it tore through the strings of his lacrosse stick. Scott growled in satisfaction, running his tongue along the fangs that were now jutting out of his lower teeth.

"The ball was in the net!" Coach Finstock shouted at the referee. Ultimately, they counted the goal. The game was tied.

With seconds left.

"What's up with your teammate?" one of the opposing players asked Jackson as they faced off, "What is he on?"

"Don't know," Jackson answered, "Yet."

"Set!" the referee shouted.

It only took seconds for Scott to obtain the ball. But the wolf was gaining more and more control over him. He stood, lacrosse stick in hand, ball in possession, fighting to retain control.

"No, no," Stiles breathed.

"This is it," he heard Buffy whisper.

But Allison's voice echoed in his ears more than any other. "Come on, Scott, you can do it."

It was all he needed. He hurled the ball towards the net. The goalie never even tried to stop it. The clock hit zero, the game was over and Sunnydale had won. The cheerleaders took to the field, the crowd swarmed in around them.

Scott ripped off his gloves. He flexed his clawed fingers. He had to get out of there.

* * *

Allison eyed the field, searching for Scott. She caught sight of him racing towards the locker room, so she followed. She hadn't gotten far when a hand grabbed her arm.

"Allison!" Buffy exclaimed, "You must be so excited! Could you take me to Lydia? I have to congratulate her, Jackson played so well!"

"I'm right here," Lydia's voice chimed in.

Buffy released Allison's arm, she seemed almost reluctant about it. "Oh, so you are," she said, "Congratulations. Jackson played so well."

"Right, okay, bye," Lydia scowled.

Allison didn't stay to see if anything else would come of that conversation. She was on a mission. She didn't think it was normal to run away right after you almost single-handedly won a game.

* * *

Sunnydale High: Boys' Locker Room

The locker room was dark – Scott hadn't even bothered to turn on a light. That made Allison even more worried about him. "Scott?" she called.

Nothing. She crept further. There was a broken mirror, with shards of glass all over the floor. It looked like it had been punched. "Scott?" she called out again.

And now, she swore she heard something overhead, saw a shadow move. She looked upwards. Still nothing. "Scott?" she called. She wasn't sure she'd actually managed to make noise this time, but she'd tried.

Then she heard a noise – a definite noise – from the showers. She crept towards them. Someone in a number 11 lacrosse jersey was leaning on his elbows up against the wall in the showers.

"Scott?" Allison managed, "Scott, you scared me." She placed a hand gently on his shoulder and he turned to face her.

His smile was warm and bright at the sight of her. "Sorry," he said, shaking his head, "I just got kind of light-headed."

"Must've been the adrenaline," Allison observed, "You were pretty amazing."

"Sorry I've been so weird," Scott smiled sheepishly, "I know I said that at your house but… you make me kind of nervous."

Allison blushed. "I do?"

"Kind of really nervous," Scott admitted. "I know I screwed up at the party, I just don't want to make sure I get my second chance," he went on.

Allison smiled. "You have it. You just need to take it."

"Maybe I need to learn to take more chances," Scott suggested.

Allison nodded, "Maybe you do."

Scott leaned in to kiss her. She brushed her lips up against his.

"Scott!" voices shouted urgently. Feet pounded on the floor.

Allison pulled away, grinning. "I have to get back to my dad." Scott nodded, but pulled her in for another kiss all the same.

This time, when Allison pulled away, he let her go. She walked quickly around the corner, nearly bumping into Stiles and Xander. As soon as she saw them, her face turned red. "Stiles. Xander. I gotta… my dad. Waiting."

"Yeah," Xander nodded.

As soon as she was gone, they both turned to Scott. "We were all so worried!" Xander exclaimed, "Buffy swore you were gonna kill her."

"I kissed her," Scott announced. He was practically glowing.

"Saw that," Stiles nodded.

"She kissed me," Scott added.

"Saw that too," Stiles nodded some more, "Nicely done."

"I controlled it," Scott explained, "I don't know how but I did. Maybe I can do this. Maybe it's not that bad."

"It would be nice to have two people in control of their super powers," Xander suggested.

"Yeah, good talk," Stiles said, awkwardly patting Scott on the shoulder, "See ya later then."

Scott grabbed Stiles' jersey as he turned to leave. "What's wrong?"

Stiles sighed. "I don't really want to ruin the moment…"

"What's wrong?" Scott insisted.

"My dad just got off the phone with the medical examiner's office," Stiles said with a heavy sigh, "Two things they found out. Firstly, the dead girl is Laura Hale. Derek's sister. And… oh, right, the medical examiner determined her killer was an animal. Derek is not an animal. Ergo, Derek is being released from jail. Or, rather, was already released."

"Are you kidding me?" Scott gasped.

Xander grimaced. "I'm going to guess he's not going to be happy. And I saw him being not happy at the Bronze when we fought those vampires. His bad side is a scary place to be."

"And we basically set up camp there," Stiles sighed.

* * *

Sunnydale High: Lacrosse Field

As the crowds of fans, friends, and family cleared the field, Jackson was left alone, rotating his wounded shoulder. It was killing him after playing that game, but he was sure he'd be fine in time for the next game. It was working all right, after all. He started to stroll towards the locker room when something on the field caught his eye.

A glove.

Scott's glove.

He strode over to it and lifted it from the ground. He turned it over in his hand, examining it from all angles.

There were holes in the fingertips. As if claws had pierced them.

* * *

Sunnydale High: Hallways

Amy and Buffy strolled through the hallways, chatting. It was a relief to have survived the previous week without anyone getting hurt. Amy had moved into her dad's house over the weekend and completely missed the lacrosse game.

"My dad is so impossible," she told Buffy, "He doesn't want me going anywhere. It's all about quality time, you know? I'm like 'Dad, I can go out. It's perfectly safe.' But he's got all this guilt about leaving me with mom. He's a total pain."

"So you're loving it?" Buffy inquired.

Amy grinned. "Every minute."

Cordelia cut into their conversation as she passed them, "I'm so sorry you guys got pushed back to alternate. No, actually, I'm not. Too busy not caring."

Amy shrugged. "I'm managing even though know I'll miss the intellectual thrill of spelling letters with my arms."

Cordelia clicked her tongue and smirked. "Ooh, these grapes are sour."

"I'm sorry though, Buffy," Amy added, "I know you actually wanted to be on the squad."

"No, I'm okay," Buffy assured her, "Turns out cheerleading's a little too dangerous for my tastes these days."

"Oh, I hear that," Amy agreed. They paused outside the trophy case, gazing at the cheerleading trophy dedicated to Catherine the Great.

"No sign of her?" Buffy asked.

Amy shook her head. "She said, with that last spell, she was going to send me somewhere where I'd never be trouble again. Wherever she is, I think we don't have to worry about it." She turned and started walking away, "I'm just glad to have my body back. I was thinking of getting fat."

"I hear that's in this spring," Buffy chimed in.

Over their own conversation, neither one of them could hear the muffled shrieks for help coming from within the cheerleading trophy itself.


End file.
